Coming Home For Good
by Liv Wilder
Summary: A sequel to 'Coming Home'. "She thinks she understands – the life she led here for three solitary months is still a mystery to him. So she gives him latitude to catch-up, to ease into the small space she made for herself: the sharply delineated edges that her DC life was defined and constrained by. She resolves to show him that he missed nothing, while all she missed was him."
1. Chapter 1 - Baby Steps

_A/N: This tale is intended as a sequel to Coming Home - if you haven't read that story, I strongly recommend you read it first. Not sure how many chapters, but it will wrap up the few loose ends and questions left open by Coming Home. The action picks up right where Coming Home left off._

* * *

_**Chapter 1 – Baby Steps**_

It's late by the time they leave the airport in DC and hop a cab to take them to Kate's corporate rental apartment in Market Square. Castle looks exhausted. He follows along behind her as if on autopilot, trailing his wheeled carryon, her leather duffel bag slung casually over his shoulder.

When they exit the elevator on her floor, Kate can feel Castle hanging back, his footsteps slowing as they walk the carpeted hallway towards the door to her apartment. She thinks she understands – the life she led here for three solitary months is still a mystery to him. So she gives him latitude to catch-up, to ease into the small space she made for herself, inspect its boundaries: the sharply delineated edges that her DC life was defined and constrained by. She resolves to show him that he missed nothing, while all she missed was him.

* * *

Kate unlocks the door and Castle hovers out in the hallway, his gaze trained on the far end of the corridor where a couple has just emerged from another apartment. They kiss, cuddle and grope one another as they bounce off the walls laughing at something that will most likely make sense only to them. Kate's seen this kind of thing a lot here in this city full of ambitious, transient strangers: interns, fundraisers, PR's and politicos. Casual hookups happen all the time. A way to relieve the pressure after long hours spent toiling in and around Capitol Hill and its environs: feeding the demanding, unrelenting powerful beast at the heart of government.

"Hey, coming inside?" she finally asks him, holding the door open with a gentle, welcoming smile.

"Uh…yeah. Yeah. Sure," he says, distractedly, his attention drawn back to the frolicking couple for another worrying moment when a burst of giggling echoes down the sterile, featureless corridor.

The second he enters the apartment she watches as he does a sweep of the place that he has neither the energy nor the guile to hide. His eyes alight on her unpacked boxes – the things she brought from home to make a home here, however temporary or permanent she initially intended that to be. She can't imagine anymore what she was thinking when she walked out on him to take this job. Her decision seems stupid, ill thought out, selfish and frankly embarrassing when she looks back on it now. She feels as if she no longer knows the person she was when she made those choices. The unpacked boxes are a bonus then – an ally that go a little way to proving both her reluctance and her inability to settle here. They point to a level of self-knowledge, no matter how nascent when she took Javi's phone call, that all was not right in her new life without him even before Jerry Tyson intervened and turned their world upside down.

* * *

She goes straight to the kitchen and fetches two bottles of water from the refrigerator, turning back round to find Castle standing in front of the unit that houses the large flat screen television she has yet to turn on. He's staring, a picture of herself and Alexis cradled in his hands. The photograph was taken on a rare family outing the three of them made to Central Park early in the summer to watch a couple of Martha's students take part in an amateur production of _The Crucible_.

"That was a great day," remarks Kate, startling him when he realizes she's standing right beside him, handing him a bottle of water and looking over his shoulder at the photograph.

"Mm," is all he says in reply, quickly replacing the photograph on the shelf and walking over to the floor-to-ceiling window to look out at the night-lit city below.

Kate swallows down the troubled feeling in her gut and goes to the bedroom to change for bed and unpack a little. She's giving him space to get used to this sudden change of scene after all he's been through these last couple of weeks. But it's hard holding back. She wants to ask him what's on his mind, she wants to touch him, she wants him to hold her, to notice her, to open up and talk to her. In some ways it really does feel as if she has now kidnapped him too – she packed for him, she gave him something close to an ultimatum to follow her here since she had to come regardless and couldn't imagine leaving him behind again. And it is undeniably hard watching him drift - so compliant and quiet, internalizing all that he's seeing and feeling: the complex mess that must be going on inside his head.

* * *

The first night in DC they sleep like children in her bed: side-by-side, soundly, but un-touching. She had hoped their kiss on the airplane was the start of something – a trusting route back, an opening up. But Castle mechanically takes his clothes off, lies down in his undershirt and boxer shorts, curls up in a ball facing the wall and falls fast asleep without so much as a kiss goodnight.

Kate knows he's not mad at her. When he's mad he doesn't even want to be around her. No, the facts are more troubling than that – he's so distant and uncharacteristically quiet that she feels as if it will take a shocking catharsis to reach him. She worries that some kind of breakdown might even be imminent.

The next morning she wakes early, makes coffee and drinks it black out at her small kitchen table since her refrigerator is empty and she has paperwork to attend to before she can go out.

She writes the letter longhand – one take, no mistakes and no do-overs. Some things are perfect, flawless first time around when you know exactly why you're doing them and exactly what needs to be said.

Castle stirs briefly when she passes through the bedroom to turn on the shower. But then he rolls away from the noise and smashes his face into the pillow, his eyes screwed tightly closed. Kate watches him tenderly for a second or two, almost overwhelmed to finally have him here for all the times she was alone and lonely and wished him back in her life. Then she swallows down those memories and pushes on with the start of her day.

She showers and carefully applies her make-up and then she goes to the closet, dressing in a dark navy pantsuit and crisp white shirt, both of which have to be removed from the drycleaner's plastic. She puts on her father's watch, leaving her mother's ring on the nightstand, and then she sits down on the edge of the bed, level with Castle's hip.

* * *

"Castle," she says gently, laying her hand on his back and smoothing it between his shoulder blades. "Castle, can you wake up for me a second?"

Castle grunts, sighs and then he rolls towards her.

"Hey," she says, giving him a soft smile. "How'd you sleep?"

He blinks at her owlishly, as if he's still pretty out of it and might not understand the question. His hair flops over his forehead, flattened like dark chocolate shavings, and she longs to smooth her fingers through it, but knows she has to take things one-step at a time.

"Okay, look," she says slowly, "I have to go into the office for a meeting now. But it'll only take a little while. I've programmed the address and map location into your phone. Why don't you come meet me there in an hour? It's only a ten-minute walk from here. I'll call if anything unexpected comes up."

Castle manages to sit up and he nods wordlessly at her suggestion, rubbing adorably at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Kate tips her head to one side giving him a concerned look and then she lays her hand on his forehead. Her fingers are cool and, though he's sleep-warm, she's relieved to discover that he doesn't have a temperature. His eyes slip shut at her touch and Kate feels her chest and throat tighten.

"Okay. I'm gonna go now. There's coffee in the kitchen. We can get brunch when we meet up. How's that sound? You might want to get in the shower, save you falling asleep again," she suggests, leaning in to kiss his cheek before she stands, his startled, wary eyes following her al the way to the door.

* * *

The meeting with her boss is professional, almost to the point of curt, and mercifully brief. She talks about organizational fit, about decision making, lines that cannot be crossed, about shades of grey versus black and white, and how she feels more useful at the Twelfth where her skills let her work more closely with the victims of violent crime at the point they come face-to-face with their worst nightmare. Her supervisor listens politely; though at no time does he intervene or try to dissuade her from leaving. And she finds that she is both relieved and yet slightly disappointed at the same time by his lack of interest in retaining her skills.

She stops by Human Resources to sort out tax and pay issues, hand back her I.D. and complete an exit interview. A younger member of the HR team accompanies her down to her cubicle to clear her desk and collect her things. She has mercifully little to take with her. Her elephants are stored in the top drawer of her desk, since personal trinkets and mementos were frowned upon she discovered soon after arriving. And between those, an autographed copy of _Deadly Heat,_ and a picture of Castle and the boys she kept in her drawer, she has barely enough stuff to warrant the small box the young woman has brought down for her.

Once on the front steps of the building, back out in the bright warmth of the day, she takes a deep breath, sniffs the air and lets the sun warm her face as she slips a classic pair of Aviators over her eyes. She's free, she's happy to be starting over, and now she can properly concentrate on the fences she has to mend.

* * *

Kate scans the sidewalk, both street corners, and then she looks further off down the block. There's no sign of Castle. She shields her face from the sun and is on the point of getting out her phone to call him when a deep voice at her elbow speaks, slightly startling her.

"Here, let me carry that for you."

"You came," she blurts, covering her surprise by allowing him to relieve her of the box, making a production of the handover in the process to further mask her doubt that he would be here.

But he doesn't miss her tone and he doesn't let her get away with it either.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

He's freshly shaven, though he still looks tired around the eyes. He's wearing a light blue linen shirt that she likes – she packed – and pale khakis. He has buttery-soft brown leather loafers on, and without a jacket and his sleeves rolled up exposing tan forearms, he looks exactly like what he is – a wealthy, attractive man in the city on vacation.

"I thought maybe you wanted to sleep longer. You seemed tired," she tells him truthfully, since they're trading honest blow-for-blows.

"How was your meeting?" he asks, perfunctorily changing the subject as they head down the steps and then turn right to walk down the street without discussing a destination.

"Well, it's done," she says, blowing out a long breath to let go of all the nerves and tension she had been holding onto now that it's finally over. She rolls her shoulders, shakes out her arms and gives the building behind her the briefest of final looks.

Kate glances over at Castle when he doesn't immediately reply, finding his puzzled stare meeting her happy, open gaze.

"What?" she asks, when he frowns, regarding her intently. "He didn't even try to persuade me to stay, so I guess I made the right decision all round," she confesses. "Would have been nice if he'd fought a little," she admits, bumping elbows with her partner, tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling sheepishly at the ground, but feeling too good right now to actually be that bothered. "We all like to be needed, right?" she shrugs, walking on.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" asks Castle, slowly looking down at the box he's carrying and seeming to notice its purpose and contents for the first time.

"That I resigned?" asks Kate, unsure why he wouldn't know that that's why she went into the office this morning.

"You really resigned? From your job? Your job with the Attorney General's office?" Castle asks, his steps gradually slowing to a crawl.

"Eh…yeah. That's why we're here. That's why I dragged you down to DC with me. Remember? I know I kind of sprang a lot on you last night and it was late and everything, but…"

Kate pauses in the street.

"Castle, are you okay?" she asks, stopping him with a hand to his arm.

She can feel his fully flexed biceps beneath her fingers since he's still carrying her box. He seems as strong as ever, despite Tyson's attempts to break him. But while he's physically strong, she knows his mental wellbeing will take a little longer to fix.

"I…I did hear you. Last night. I heard what you said, why you wanted to come down here…"

"But?" asks Kate, seeing in his eyes that there's more he isn't saying.

"But…I guess I didn't believe you'd actually do it. I mean, give up _that_ job? That was your shot, Beckett. You said so yourself."

"Castle, I thought I made myself clear. The letter…and I know we haven't had much time to talk about things…about the future, since I got back. But…I thought you understood," she tells him, her need to make him believe her sincerity driving her forward until he does understand her.

"You really went in there and resigned?" he repeats, looking down at the meager selection of items in her box, including his own book, and then back up at her smiling face.

"Yes," she nods, smiling even wider when he finally grins back at her, his eyes crinkling up at the sides - soft skin she wants to touch with the tips of her fingers.

"So, you're currently unemployed?" he grins, somehow amused by this fact.

"No. I'm technically _between_ jobs. And more accurately on vacation," she corrects, her smile broadening to match his.

"How long?"

"How long?" asks Kate, shaking her head to indicate that she doesn't understand.

"This vacation…how long do we have?"

"Oh! Right," she says, relief sweeping through her. "As long as you want. As long as you need. As long at it takes to fix the mess I made of everything," she adds candidly, her eyes shining.

"You mean that? You're not gonna be looking at your phone two days from now wishing that a body would drop?"

"Castle, I meant what I said last night. I want to earn back your trust. _Nothing_ is more important to me," she tells him earnestly, hoping he's still open to this, given how she's been pushing him. "So? What do you say? Shall we find somewhere for brunch and plan a vacation?" she asks, holding her breath.

"You really are embracing this unemployment thing," he laughs, nudging her with his arm.

His reaction is so unexpected that Kate laughs too. It bubbles out of her, rippling from her chest, up her throat and out of her mouth as she throws her head back, face tipped up to the sun, feeling better than she has in weeks.

"Lead on," he says, tucking the small box under his arm and falling in step with her.

* * *

They're quiet for a moment as they carry on down the street, the sun bouncing off the buildings all around them throwing out a mix of cool shadows and sharp reflections.

"You're really okay with this?" he asks, giving her another sideways glance to check her face.

"With what? Brunch on a weekday morning?"

"With giving up a stellar future in DC to return to the streets of New York to be a detective?"

"Someday soon I will tell you _all_ about my Federal experience, Castle—"

"Even the classified bits?" he interrupts, eagerly.

"No. Not those," she replies, giving him a patient, knowing smirk. "But you have no idea how much I'm looking forward to going back to the Twelfth and working with you and the boys again. Sometimes what you thought you wanted turns out not to be all it's cracked up to be."

"Regrets?" asks Castle quietly, bumping shoulders with her as they pause at a crosswalk.

Kate nods, and shields her eyes from the sun.

"So many."

"I'm sorry," says Castle, looking as if he genuinely means it.

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

He shrugs.

"I just hate to see you feeling bad."

"Castle, right now, _today_, I feel great. More optimistic and certain about what life is going to be than I've ever felt. The mistakes I made? They were all my own fault. My biggest regret is how badly I treated you."

"We all do stupid things, Kate. I had a part to play in the choices you made. I might have stepped up in the end, but my timing stank. Don't think I don't know that."

"That's very noble of you. But this is on me. Seriously. You offered me everything and I…I just threw it back in your face."

"And now you're trying to fix it," he acknowledges, as the lights change and they cross the street.

"So…are you saying it's not too late?" she asks, gnawing nervously on her lower lip.

"Are you being coy with me, detective?" he asks, giving her a wink.

"Is that a yes?"

"Depends on this vacation," he teases. "Better make it a good one."

"We're planning it together, Castle. How could it not be great?"

"Good point. Tell me what I can do to help."

"Well…now might be a good time to hold my hand," she tells him, tentatively, looking up into his suntanned face.

She feels his knuckles brush hers before he slides his hand backwards and then captures her palm, folding his fingers around hers like there's nowhere else they should ever be. The sensation feels electric to Kate, and they're only holding hands.

* * *

They arrive at the diner she'd been unconsciously heading them towards and easily find an open booth, since it's now midmorning – the breakfast crowd has left and the lunch brigade has yet to arrive.

They're sitting opposite one another having read their menus and ordered food. Chunky, steaming white mugs of dark coffee rest in front of each of them and a quiet, easy silence stretches across the table between them.

Kate is pleased with their progress this morning. Castle looks more alert than he has since they freed him from Tyson's clutches and less restless than he has the past few days since he shot the man dead in that Elizabeth Street basement. But she is troubled by the information Lanie shared with her last night, and she knows that as much as she doesn't want to hamper the progress they've made, now has to be the time to tell him exactly what Tyson did. Full disclosure will be the only way for him to start trusting her again.

So she bites her lip, takes a deep breath and reaches across the table to touch his hand.

"Hey," she smiles, when he looks up at her with interest. "Castle, there's something I have to tell you," she confesses, watching with deep regret as the new, hopeful light dims in his eyes and the wariness returns.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	2. Chapter 2 - A Painful Truth

_A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely welcome back to fan fiction and the happy dances people did when they saw the sequel to this story. Much appreciated._

* * *

**_Chapter 2 – A Painful Truth_**

_Previously…_

_Kate is pleased with their progress this morning. Castle looks more alert than he has since they freed him from Tyson's clutches and less restless than he has the past few days since he shot the man dead in that Elizabeth Street basement. But she is troubled by the information Lanie shared with her last night, and she knows that as much as she doesn't want to hamper the progress they've made, now has to be the time to tell him exactly what Tyson did. Full disclosure will be the only way for him to start trusting her again. _

_So she bites her lip, takes a deep breath and reaches across the table to touch his hand. _

"_Hey," she smiles, when he looks up at her with interest. "Castle, there's something I have to tell you," she confesses, watching with deep regret as the new, hopeful light dims in his eyes and the wariness returns._

* * *

She watches as he leans back in the booth, withdrawing his hand from under hers as he physically attempts to put some distance between them. It's clear in this moment that he views her as an imminent source of pain and God does that hurt to see.

"I knew it was too good to be true," he says, turning his head away to look out of the window at the street beyond.

"What was too good to be true?" asks Kate, leaning towards him to breech the distance he just opened up.

"_This!_" he says, angrily waving his hand between them. "Us."

"Castle," sighs Kate, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Okay, look, you haven't even heard what I'm about to say."

"I don't need to. This is _you_," he adds, and it stings, though she knows she has only herself and her past behavior to blame for his reaction and the uninformed assumptions he's making. "Nothing that good ever lasts for long. Nothing about this _ever_ goes smoothly."

"I know why you would say that…I do. I can't say I'm happy about it, but I know where you're coming from. But this is different, I promise," she assures him, earnestly.

"Different how?" he asks, a little petulantly, though she can see that his interest has been piqued, probably by her near pleading tone.

"Because what I'm about to tell you _isn't_ about us or me or letting you down again or ruining what we have. We _are_ going on this vacation, Castle. I will drive us myself. I packed your bag for God's sake – your underwear, socks, those little brass collar stays for your dress shirts, even that lip balm you like to use in the sun…" she tells him, ducking her head so she can see his eyes, attempting to coax a smile out of him.

The list she just reeled off is designed to show him just how well she knows him, and how much she pays attention to the small things that are important to him.

"Did you remember the pillow spray?" he asks, somewhat grumpily, before slowly lifting his gaze to meet hers.

"The lavender one? Yes. I packed two of them," she smiles, when he nods.

"Dress shirts? Are we going somewhere fancy?"

"Life with you has taught me to always be prepared," she replies, giving him a hopeful smile.

Castle nods, absorbing all she's just said, and then Kate watches him take a fortifying breath.

"So…what is it you needed to tell me? You looked so serious a second ago. I thought it had to be bad news."

"This _is_ serious," she says, frankly. "I really want to be honest with you from now on. Lies, and hiding from the hard stuff, even if it was for the right reasons sometimes…it doesn't work for us. I can see that now. So even though this is going to be difficult for you to hear, I know that you would want me to be honest with you. No sugar coating. And I need for you to trust me again, Castle," she confesses, reaching across the table for his hand.

He relents, and is just stretching his fingers out to meet hers when their server arrives at the table with the food they ordered. Castle sighs loudly and collapses back against the booth again with a jolt.

Kate thanks the young woman patiently, waits until her rubber-soled shoe barely finishes squeaking on the vinyl tile as she pivots and turns away from them before she starts to explain.

* * *

"At the bar last night, before you arrived, Lanie cornered me and—"

"Lanie?" interrupts Castle; his brow concertinaed into a frown. "What did she want?"

"Castle," sighs Kate, rubbing her own forehead with the heel of her hand, "why don't you eat your breakfast while it's hot and just hear me out? Okay? Then, when I've finished, you can ask me anything you want."

Castle nods, seeming to accept her request as he reaches for the sticky, glass pitcher of Maple syrup that's sitting next to a small container of Equal and brown and white sugar sachets.

"She completed Tyson's autopsy yesterday—"

"Wait! _Please_ tell me the guy is definitely dead?" blurts Castle, dribbling a small puddle of syrup off the side of his plate and onto the light grey Formica tabletop he's so distracted.

"Rick!" says Kate, giving him an unamused stare, her eyebrows shooting up for emphasis.

"Sorry. Sorry," he replies, waving her on as he makes a lock lips and throw away the key gesture.

"Thank you," she sighs, poking at the small, yellow mound of scrambled eggs on her own plate with her fork.

"So…and I should probably warn you that this is not exactly breakfast table conversation…" she interjects.

"_Kate?_" says Castle, frustratedly, dropping his fork onto the plate with a clatter, a mouthful of pancake still speared on it.

"Sorry," she says this time. "I'll just…"

"Get on with it," adds Castle.

"Right. So, cause of death was definitely G.S.W. to the chest. That was never in doubt. But as a routine part of the autopsy she removed and recorded the state, weight, and appearance of his internal organs as she would in any other case."

"And?"

"_And_…she found a sizeable mass on his pancreas."

Kate pauses to assess Castle's reaction to this news, but he just keeps on looking at her as if waiting for more.

"A tumor. Castle, she found a tumor," Kate clarifies, when he still doesn't flinch. "She also said that when she went back and re-examined his lungs she found signs that the cancer had spread."

"Tyson had cancer?"

Kate nods.

"Did he know?"

"Lanie seemed to think that there was no way he wouldn't know…_couldn't_ have known that he was sick. But Castle, I thought there was maybe still a chance that it was just a coincidence that he was dying anyway…"

"But you know that it wasn't?" he says, with nothing but resignation in his voice.

"I got a call from Rachel this morning. They got the autopsy report and checked with local New York hospitals to see if he'd sought any medical treatment."

"They found something, didn't they?"

Kate nods.

"Yeah," she admits, looking down at her untouched plate of food and then back up at her partner's earnest face. "Turns out he attended Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. Castle, Kelly saw him a few times as part of her caseload."

"_Kelly?_ And she didn't even realize?" he asks, incredulous.

"He registered under the alias Eric Winters, the same name he used when he signed up to work for your car service. Rachel never discussed the details of the case with her at home. There was no way she could have known. According to the oncologist Kelly works with, he was given a terminal prognosis. He never came back to start his radiotherapy sessions, just cut out on his medical bills, stopped answering his phone and disappeared."

"Son of a bitch!" growls Castle, thumping his fist down on the table.

The cutlery rattles, the plates jump and their waitress stares over in alarm at the commotion. Kate gives her a reassuring smile and raises her hand in a wave to let her know that everything is fine.

"I'm so sorry, Castle."

* * *

Kate watches as he takes a breath, settles his features, squares his shoulders, picks up his discarded fork and then resumes cutting up his syrup-drenched pancakes as if the last few minutes never happened.

"So, are you still set on seeing the Fall colors in Virginia or can I tempt you with a flight somewhere warm and exotic?" he asks, as soon as he finishes the first mouthful of pancake, like he hasn't a care in the world.

"Castle, can we talk about this for a second please?"

"We are talking. I just asked for your opinion on vacation destinations," he replies, blithely.

"You know what I mean. About Tyson. About how he manipulated—"

"Kate that man has taken up enough of my time and enough of my head space," interrupts Castle, sharply, stopping her in her tracks.

"He _knew_ that he was dying and he forced you to euthanize him, Castle. I can't imagine what that must feel like, but I think it might help you to talk about it."

"So I'll see Dr. Burke when we get home."

"I think you should talk about it now."

"Says the woman who spent years not talking about the important stuff."

Kate flinches.

"Touché!"

"I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to say," he apologizes.

"Doesn't make it any less true," she concedes.

"Still, you're trying to help and I'm being a jackass. I'm sorry. But, Kate, that doesn't change the fact that I really don't want to talk about this. I just want to put it behind me and move on. What you just told me doesn't change who he was or the fact that I shot him dead. He's still an evil, twisted bastard, who for some reason was intent on ruining our lives. I'm not giving in to that."

Kate watches him stubbornly work his way through two cups of coffee and a short stack of pancakes without wavering.

Eventually, she sighs and resigns herself to shelving this discussion for later. She eats her own, near cold breakfast, forcing down each mouthful of eggs and bacon with a gulp of hot coffee until she can face eating no more food. Castle's reaction to this news is troubling her, but she can tell he's insistent by the firm set of his mouth. Pushing him more right now will only result in an argument she doesn't want to have. So she relents.

They knock about a few ideas for their trip, agreeing that they need a couple of days in Washington to tidy up her affairs before they can get the actual vacation underway.

* * *

Castle sleeps a lot over the next couple of days – rising late and turning in early. He's distant when she can tell he doesn't mean to be. It's as if thoughts he can't yet share with her are occupying his mind, filling it up and squeezing out everything else around him.

Kate calls Dr. Burke early one morning while she's out buying a few things for breakfast just to get a little advice. The therapist reassures her that this is perfectly normal behavior given the trauma Castle has just been through. His body is adjusting, 'resetting' he calls it, and the increased hours of sleep are helping his mind to heal. But he also tells her to call again if Castle exhibits any further signs of depression or anxiety. He thinks that a vacation is an excellent idea, and recommends that they come in to see him together when they get back to the city. He wishes Kate luck; luck that she hopes she won't need.

While Castle sleeps late, Kate packs up her things. He insisted on hiring movers and Kate agreed on the condition that she packed the boxes herself. The men will simply come in when she's done and ship her boxes back to New York. Since she no longer has her own apartment in the city, and they have yet to get to the point of discussing their future together, Kate arranges for the boxes to be sent to her dad's place until she can get back to town and sort out her affairs. Castle either doesn't hear her talking on the phone to the moving company or he doesn't have an opinion on her living arrangements. Either way, he doesn't contradict her instructions. She hopes that it is the former, since she can deal with almost anything at this point but his indifference.

* * *

The breakthrough Kate has been hoping for comes mid-afternoon on day three. Castle appears from the bedroom after an afternoon nap, his hair sleep rumpled, eyes puffy and face creased, to tell her that he has made reservations for dinner tonight at a quiet little Italian near Dupont Circle.

Kate stops what she's doing, straightening up from her spot kneeling on the floor to look up at him. His eyes are softer, more engaged, and there's a glimmer of something apologetic in them.

"Help me with these?" she asks, casually, indicating the stack of jewel CD cases she had been packing.

"And get a chance to mock your music collection?" he teases, eagerly dropping to the floor beside her. "Try and stop me."

His enthusiasm and humor is reassuringly familiar and so utterly welcome after the long silences and pensive, far off staring.

"Eh…I have two words for you, Mr. Castle," responds Kate, shoving him over with a hand to his shoulder so that he unbalances and falls to one side on the rug. "Taylor Swift!" she says, triumphantly.

"I told you that CD belonged to Alexis," he protests, laughing with her all the same.

"Come on! Did you really think I wouldn't check? Your daughter is not a liar, Castle. She denied all knowledge. And that CD was in _your_ car."

"Okay," he says, holding up both hands in a sign of surrender. "But you have your fair share of doozies. What about this?" he asks, picking a random CD out of the pile and holding it up. "_Dead Boys_? _Really_, Beckett? How apt," he adds, dryly.

"They're a punk band, Castle. Not that you would know anything about that."

"Careful, Kate. Your cool is showing."

"Shut up!" she laughs, lunging for the CD case which he holds high above his head.

Kate stretches for it, and it's easy, since he's still sitting on the floor and all she has to do it stand up a little. But when he throws his arm backward out of her reach she catches her foot beneath his knee and topples over, onto him. He drops the CD case just in time to catch her, and the force of her momentum sends them both collapsing backwards onto the floor.

"Throwing yourself at me?" quips Castle, his hands spanning her waist as she basically lies on top of him.

"Thought you'd never notice," counters Kate, quietly, as they stare at each other, chests rising and falling in time with one another, the tension between them palpable.

Kate places a hand on his shoulder and bravely leans forward to kiss him just as Castle turns his head away to the side, bracing one hand on the floor to begin helping her up. She closes her eyes and shakes her head once they are both back on their feet, the intimate potential of the moment lost in a flash, and she balls her fist in frustration at her side.

"Think I'll just…go take a shower," says Castle, backing away out of the room clearing his throat, indicating that the awkwardness of the last thirty seconds isn't lost on him either.

"Right," nods Kate, dropping to her knees again when he makes no playful suggestion that she join him in the shower, as he would have done in the past. "I'll just finish up out here."

"Reservation's at eight o'clock," he tells her, and she can hear the guilt and regret in his voice. "Take your time."

She doesn't know how to bridge this physical and emotional gulf that has built up between them since they slept together just once at his loft after he was released from Tyson's living hell. But she's determined to make them face it, and this dinner tonight seems like it might offer the perfect opportunity.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	3. Chapter 3 - Glimpses

_A/N: This is a quick update. I decided to split this section in two, partly to keep the story coming for y'all since it was getting long and partly because I'm still on vacation and have less time to write. Hope you will excuse me for that. I'll get the next section out as soon as I can. Thank you as always for your enthusiastic support for this story. _

* * *

_**Chapter 3 – Glimpses**_

The restaurant is bigger than Kate imagined…and infinitely busier. It's more high gloss, modern scene than quiet little bistro with red checkered tablecloths and dripping candles jammed into the necks of old Chianti bottles. And the world and his wife seem to be here. She spots a Senator in one corner with a young woman who has to be his daughter or his…nope, definitely his mistress, and a well-known, primetime news anchor with eyebrows more expressive than most people's entire faces.

Castle touches her lower back in an involuntary, habitual manner when she stops dead just inside the foyer to survey the scene. It's loud in the way that stylish restaurants seems to be these days – no soft furnishings to absorb the noise of a hundred or so people all talking at once, moving furniture and manipulating silverware.

Kate steps aside to let Castle speak to the hostess: a tall, devastatingly elegant African American girl with a large, perfectly coiffured Afro, arresting red lipstick and a slinky black dress. She's at least Castle's height, and in heels she hovers just above, giving him the rare experience of being talked down to.

They're quickly escorted to a mercifully quiet table in a corner of the dining room where they can sit next to one another rather than facing across the table. This position also gives them both a good view of the room. But before they can even reach the table and get settled, Kate looks up to find a tall, young man in a dark suit striding towards them.

"Agent Beckett! I thought that was you," he says, greeting Kate warmly.

He reaches out to shake her hand and then leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek. Castle remains beside their table for a couple of seconds, just watching the interaction unfold, before he gets his wits and his manners back and returns to Kate's side to join them.

"Dan, this is Richard Castle," says Kate, introducing her partner to the FBI Agent.

"The novelist, Richard Castle? Wow! Pleasure to meet you, Sir," says Dan Movitch.

Castle grimaces slightly as he shakes the man's hand. The guy is closer to Kate's age, maybe even a little younger, and his polite deference jars with the writer, making him feel stuffy and old.

"Actually, I am just going to powder my nose, if you don't mind," says Kate, excusing herself, leaving Castle and Agent Movitch standing looking at one another.

* * *

"_Now_ I know why Kate wouldn't agree to come out with any of us for drinks. She is clearly used to moving in more interesting circles," says the young man enthusiastically.

"Kate didn't socialize with her team?" asks Castle, his curiosity stirred by this remark.

He feels as if he is prying and should just have asked Kate about her time here himself. But then this opportunity has landed in his lap and it seems too good a chance to pass up.

"No. And we tried, Sir. Believe me," smiles winsome Dan; a suggestive smile that Castle is a little uncomfortable with.

"Please, Dan, call me Rick," insists Castle, putting the guy at his ease, intrigued enough by the last comment not to shut him down and chase him off right away. "So, there's a gang of you?" he enquires, paternally resting a large hand on the younger man's shoulder – since if that is how the Agent sees Castle, he plans on playing up to the stereotype.

"Not so much a gang. Just me and a few guys I came through Langley with. We work hard and we play hard. Basketball, beer, and booty," he laughs. "That's what DC is all about. So, when a new Agent joins the team, particularly one as good looking as Kate Beckett, the guys get a little competitive, if you know what I'm saying," he grins, obviously not making the connection between Kate and Castle since he had no time to observe them together and in truth would have seen very little of substance at this point to aim him in the right direction.

"And she wasn't for joining in?" asks Castle, clarifying once and for all. "Couldn't be persuaded, huh?" he adds, grinning and shaking his head.

"Not even for one drink. Never saw her anywhere but the office. Rumor mill had her down as engaged or something. But that didn't stop some of the guys hoping for a chance."

"A chance. I see," nods Castle, trying to keep the delight out of his voice; more pleased by this tidbit of information than he should be given how distant he's been towards her lately.

Kate returns to the table before Castle can pry any further and he startles her, albeit pleasantly, by kissing her on the cheek when she gets close enough, trailing his fingers possessively down the back of her arm.

"There you are. Missed you," he murmurs against her cheek, just loud enough for Dan Movitch to hear.

The man's face is a picture. He stares first at Kate, his cheeks coloring a little, and then drags his eyes back to Castle's slightly smug-looking face.

"You…_you're_ the fiancé?" he stammers, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"What's going on?" asks Kate, looking directly at Castle for an explanation.

"I was making an ass of myself. Sir, I apologize. I meant no disrespect," Dan tells Castle, holding out his hand for the writer to shake. "No hard feelings?"

Castle accepts the handshake and nods. The young man gives Kate a halfhearted wave and departs hurriedly for his own table: a large gathering of rowdy men in suits.

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what that was about? Or do I have to torture it out of—"

Kate sinks into her seat, her hand pressed to her mouth. "Oh my God, Castle. I am _so sorry_. That came out all wrong, and—"

"Hey, it's fine," he tells her, sitting down beside her, briefly touching her back to reassure her. "Just a turn of phrase. I know you didn't mean anything by it and we're moving on, right? No tippy-toeing around things, please. Just act normal."

"Right. Thanks," she nods, settling in at the table. "But you still haven't explained what Movitch was talking about. Why does he think that we're engaged and why did you kiss me and tell me that you missed me?"

When Castle doesn't answer, Kate pushes him again.

"_Castle?_ Were you…did you just _use_ me to one-up Agent Movitch? Because you haven't so much as _touched_ me since we got off the airplane from New York and now you get…_what_? A little male competition and suddenly you're interested again?" she asks, her righteous anger swelling with every word as it dawns on her what just went down.

"I…I'm sorry," admits Castle, sheepishly. "That was…stupid and juvenile and ungentlemanly of me and you deserve better, Kate. I apologize. But Agent Jock-Itch and his frat boys over there got me all riled up, and…I'm sorry, I know that's no excuse."

"Apologies are one thing, but I need to know what's going on with you?" asks Kate, softening her voice.

Their waitress suddenly appears with some menus and the wine list, asking about their water preference for the table. They navigate this exchange politely, before returning to the more difficult discussion she cut in on.

"What did you do with your weekends when you were living down here?" asks Castle, shaking out his napkin and laying it across his lap.

"I worked mostly," admits Kate, glancing up in surprise at the question. "Looked over old case files, got caught up on paperwork, studied the training material they gave me. Sometimes I used the gym in the basement of my building or went out running when the weather wasn't so hot. Why?"

"Did you socialize at all?"

"No," she says, shaking her head and looking down at the table, toying distractedly with her butter knife, embarrassed to have to make this admission.

"Not even for a beer after work on a Friday night or after you closed a case or something?"

"Castle, I need you to understand something. My time here was as miserable and empty as I described in that letter I wrote you. I knew pretty much from the start that I was a square peg in a round hole down here. And then there was you," she adds, quietly, biting her lip and looking into his eyes.

"Me?"

"Or…not you, as it turns out."

"I…I don't…"

"You were _gone_ from my life and I hated it, every second of it."

"So, why didn't you _call me_ or text me or…hell, carrier pigeon…something, Kate? I would have been down here in a flash. You _know_ that."

"Because it was all my own doing. Don't you see? _I_ made the choices, the plans, the…the selfish career decision that put us in this mess, Castle. I did what I wanted and to hell with everyone else because I didn't think I could make everything work - the job, you and me. People talk about having it all and...I didn't believe that I could, so I chose...badly."

"Are you saying your _pride_ stopped you from getting in touch with me?"

"Pride, stupidity, fear…I don't know. Probably all of the above."

* * *

"Can I tell you about our specials this evening?" asks Laura, their server, landing up right in the middle of their most honest conversation in weeks.

Castle likes his food, but right now he'd happily go hungry if they could just get to the end of this discussion without being interrupted.

"Could you please give us a minute?" asks Kate, politely and calmly, pushing out a pleasant smile for the young woman who simply nods and backs away when she finally picks up on the heavy vibe at the table.

"Of course. Just signal when you're ready," she tells Kate.

"Kate, this is _me_," Castle reminds her, earnestly. "We've known each other for years, through good and bad, hell and back. Why would you think you couldn't come to me when you realized you'd made a mistake? Or have you forgotten that I wanted to marry you?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten," she tells him, plaintively. "But Castle, this is also _me!_ I don't _do_ mistakes, okay. I plan, I strategize, I…I assess things from every angle _before_ I act, and that's just choosing what to pack for a weekend away. I screwed up big time over this. I hate to be so arrogant as to say that I ruined your life, but I certainly came close to ruining mine."

"You wouldn't be arrogant if you said that," admits Castle, quietly. "And you wouldn't be wrong. Those months without you were no picnic for me either. Look, we need to talk properly and this place just isn't doing it for me," he says, looking out across the floor at the sea of raucous diners. "Would you mind if we—"

"Please?" replies Kate, eagerly. "Yes. Let's get out of here. I would _really_ like that," she admits, with evident relief, already dumping her napkin on the table and standing.

"Can I…help you?" asks their young waitress as they make to pass by her on their way to the exit.

"I'm afraid we had a family emergency," says Kate, on the spur of the moment.

"The babysitter just called," adds Castle, by way of explanation. "Chad and Maisie, our six month old twins, are sick," he lies, taking Kate's elbow and steering her towards the front door.

* * *

They're both laughing by the time the hit the street.

"Family emergency?" grins Castle, straightening his purple silk necktie.

"It was the first thing that popped into my head," laughs Kate. "And _twins_? _Really?_"

"I was improvising" shrugs Castle. "A skill I learned from mother."

"And naming our babies Chad and Maisie? Where'd that come from?" asks Kate, standing close to him and looking up into his smiling face.

"Just…I don't know," mumbles Castle, closing back down, as he scuffs the sidewalk with his shoe and looks away from her, his easy smile dimming to nothing.

"Please don't do that," asks Kate, reaching out to touch his arm.

"What?" asks Castle, innocently.

"Shut down on me. Please...don't."

"You wanna go get a pizza?" asks Castle, changing tack, looking off down the street into the distance. "We could take it back to your apartment."

"You know, I think I've spent enough time staring at those four walls. What I would really like is to talk some more. Can we walk for a bit?" asks Kate, nodding her head in the direction in which Castle is looking.

"Sure. We can do that," he agrees, offering Kate his arm as they fall in step with one another and head off down Florida Avenue.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	4. Chapter 4 - Intentions

_A/N: Our couple's walk and talk conversation continues..._

* * *

_**Chapter 4 – Intentions**_

_Previously..._

_"Please don't do that," asks Kate, reaching out to touch his arm._

_"What?" asks Castle, innocently._

_"Shut down on me. Please...don't."_

_"You wanna go get a pizza?" asks Castle, changing tack, looking off down the street into the distance. "We could take it back to your apartment."_

_"You know, I think I've spent enough time staring at those four walls. What I would really like is to talk some more. Can we walk for a bit?" asks Kate, nodding her head in the direction in which Castle is looking._

_"Sure. We can do that," he agrees, offering Kate his arm as they fall in step with one another and head off down Florida Avenue._

* * *

Castle looks incredibly handsome tonight, Kate has to admit to herself, as they stroll the streets around Dupont Circle. He's dressed head-to-toe in black – well-fitting dress pants, a lightweight cashmere jacket and a brand new dress shirt she found in his closet back in New York still wrapped up in the store's branded tissue paper. She sneaks sidelong glances when she thinks he isn't looking, more pleased by what she sees every time she feasts her eyes on him. She's missed this so much - being close to him, simply walking beside him. Every glimpse of his familiar profile makes her chest ache.

They walk on for a full block, leaving the restaurant behind, before Kate speaks again. She nervously gnaws on her lip before working up the nerve to ask the question that's been flitting around the edges of her brain for the longest time.

"So…" she says, drawing out the single syllable longer than normal. "You've heard my sorry tale. What about you?"

"What about me?" asks Castle, giving her a questioning look.

"How were things…after I left? I know you went out with the guys and Kelly and Rachel a few times, and you kept going back to the Precinct when Gates would let you, but other than that, those three months are a blank for me."

"You…you want to talk about…about my life back in New York _after_ you left me?" asks Castle, his tone indicating his surprise and distaste for the idea.

"I didn't exactly leave you," argues Kate, hearing and hating how feeble her rebuttal sounds as soon as the words are out of her mouth.

"Oh no?" asks Castle, his own tone falling towards sarcasm. "Then what would you call it? You were there one minute, we were practically living together, Kate, building a life, and then suddenly you're keeping secrets and shipping off by yourself to climb the greasy pole at the Attorney General's office."

"Castle, that's not fair," argues Kate, almost wishing she hadn't opened up this discussion in the first place. But some part of her still needs to know, so she persists. "If you had gotten a similar opportunity—"

"I did," he cuts in bluntly. "Four years ago. Or have you forgotten? The—"

"Bond novels," nods Kate, closing her eyes and wincing. "But you didn't give those up for—"

"_You?_ Oh, you still think that was simply about a Nikki Heat three book deal?" he asks, making her blush with his candor.

"Well, wasn't it?" she asks, sounding confused. "The first one was a big success and so obviously—"

"Kate," he says softly, silencing her with the sad, intimate, velvet tone of his voice. "I had to make a choice. Either route would have meant more success, greater recognition and more money. Arguably more of everything if I'd taken the other path. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't choose to stay with Nikki Heat because of you."

"I…_no_," replies Kate, shaking her head. "No. That was too soon. To be making a decision like that?" she asks, looking a little shocked by this information.

"Maybe," he shrugs. "What can I say – you got under my skin. But it certainly wasn't too soon when you made yours," he adds, crushing her with the truth of this statement.

* * *

They carry on in silence for another block, since Kate feels the words 'I'm sorry' have lost all effect she's said them so often, and any further words of apology will just sound hollow.

"You know, I was kind of surprised you didn't just 'Castle' me," she throws out there, thinking back to all the times she heard a noise in the corridor outside her apartment and hoped that it was him, barging his way back into her life like he used to.

"_Castle_ you?" he asks, giving her a puzzled look.

"Yeah, you know – just show up at my door after I told you I needed time to figure everything out."

Kate watches him stuff his hands into his pants pockets and train his eyes on the sidewalk before he gives her a half-hearted grin.

"Oh, my God! You did. Didn't you?" she declares, her heart rate picking up with useless hope, since this _whatever_ he's about to describe is in the past now and of no good to her other than to confirm what she already knows – that he's crazy about her, even when she hurts him to the core.

"I got as far as the boarding gate before I turned back," he tells her sheepishly. "Even delayed the flight since they had to get my bags off."

"_No!_" she says, wide-eyed, her fingers pressed to her mouth.

Castle nods to confirm the truth of his story.

"How much stuff had you packed?" she asks, her brow knitting.

"A lot," he replies, a little tightlipped.

"Because…?" encourages Kate, drawing this important story out of him.

"_Because_ I'd had enough of missing you, of…of _existing_ without you, and so I decided to pack up and move to DC. If you turned me away, my plan was to rent somewhere in the city until you agreed to live with me."

Kate can feel tears clogging her throat and clouding her vision, making the flare from the streetlights blur her view of the buildings up ahead.

"And…why didn't you go through with it? What made you change you mind?" she asks, never so bitterly disappointed about anything.

"_You_," he replies simply, looking over at her. "You asked for space, said you needed time to figure out your new job. I thought the least I could do was respect your request," he shrugs.

"You picked _now_ of all times to listen to me?" she asks, wanting to scream at him or punch him or something."

"Well, yeah," he says, as if it makes perfect sense. "I thought I stood a better chance of winning you back if I did as you asked for a change."

"And if you'd stayed out of my mother's case when I asked you, or…or the hundred other times I told you _not_ to do something and you ignored me? Where would we be now?" she asks angrily, the heat in her voice driven by a fear that they could have missed one another; missed the window the universe was offering them if it hadn't been for Castle's obstinate, single-mindedness.

"We'd be right here," he assures her, with a confidence she doesn't feel.

"How can you know that?"

"When you were shot and you left for three months without calling…you came looking for me…eventually. I figured this would be the same. So I turned around at Newark and went back to an empty loft and I waited. A week later I was chained to a radiator in your old apartment. So, you see, all's well that end's well," he says, shrugging.

"I would have asked you to stay," Kate tells him, quietly, giving him a flash of a brave smile that is quickly muted by a wobbling lip and the tears gathered in her eyes.

"I guess we'll never know that for sure," responds Castle, sounding more mature and pragmatic than he has in a long time.

His tone makes Kate sad. She wants him still to believe in the wonder of life, in magic and mystery and fate and the good in people. She hates that she might be responsible for having dimmed some of the childish joy he always had inside of him, and so she resolves to help put it back however and whenever she can.

* * *

"You do realize we're walking around Washington at night…unarmed," Castle observes, when a tall man suddenly appears out of a side street up ahead and crosses in front of them, a large, black dog loping along behind.

"Unarmed, unemployed… You know, some days, when I was at my lowest, another stack of paperwork would land on my desk that needed to be plowed through, no personal stories, no one I could help, sometimes just cold, faceless data… Well, anyway, it made me feel reckless," confesses Kate. "And I started to take risks that I knew I shouldn't."

"What kind of risks?" asks Castle, his throat constricting, imagining the careful, in-control Kate that he knows letting go of her grip.

"Things like this…walking at night…only I was alone. Or sometimes I wouldn't be able to sleep and I'd get up and go for a run just as it was getting light."

Castle listens in silence as they walk down the dark street, using his eyes to scan more alertly now for any signs of imminent danger.

"When I started feeling reckless on the job, out in the field, I knew."

"Knew what?"

"I knew I wouldn't last here much longer. I couldn't. That I didn't care as much about my own safety was one thing, but I was putting my team at risk. I…I was distracted, operating below par, Castle," she admits, turning to assess his reaction to this truth she's sharing.

"That doesn't sound like you," he replies, seriously, and Kate lifts her shoulders in a silent shrug.

"Yeah, well, I guess we all do stuff that's out of character from time to time. Turns out I'm no good at blindly following order either," she tells him, bumping his shoulder. "Anyway, before I could do anything about it, I got that terrifying phone call from Esposito."

"And you ended up facing the biggest danger of all," fills in Castle.

"Yeah. But the thing is…at least by then I _cared_. I actually _felt_ something besides lonely and miserable. I had a purpose and God did I care about the outcome."

"But, Kate, you acted as if you didn't. You behaved as recklessly as you just described. Going at Tyson without backup, knowing he'd take your weapon, risking your life to—"

"_Save yours!_ Don't you see? That wasn't reckless. I've never cared so much about an outcome in my life. I had no way to make things right with you…none that didn't look cheap and desperate anyway, and then Tyson pops up again and—"

"Are you _glad_?" asks Castle, looking at her in astonishment. "Are…are you actually _pleased_ that he blasted his way into our lives again?"

"_No!_" she denies, desperately. "No! Look at what you went through. How could I _ever_ be happy about that? No, I just meant that—"

"Look what _I _went through? Kate, you have to start acknowledging the nightmare you went through too. We can't keep hiding from that, brushing it aside like it was nothing. He assaulted you. Hell, he…I don't even know what to call what he did to you, but…"

"And I'd go through it again in a heartbeat if it meant getting to the same outcome. _Wait_," she says, stopping their progress along the street by halting suddenly.

Castle pauses too and turns to look at her, his face tired and troubled.

"Is that why you can't bear to touch me? Is that it?" she demands. "Do you think I'm unclean or…or tainted in some way? Hmm? Am I damaged goods to you, Castle?" she asks, her voice rising more and more with the disappointment and heightened emotion that's been swirling inside of her for days.

"No," he says, quietly, shaking his head, not wanting this to turn into a fight.

His voice is low and controlled. He isn't arguing back with the same force as she's demanding to know, and it takes the heat out of the moment.

"No, of course I don't think of you as any of those things," he reassures her. "I think of you as brave and courageous, selfless and strong. But I need a little time, Kate, to get back on track. I thought you understood that."

"I do. I just…" she sighs, pushing both hands through her hair in frustration.

"Look, I've heard every word of apology you've made. Every word. And I believe that you mean what you say. But even before you left for DC I had to push every time I needed you to share with me when it came to anything bigger than your place or mine or what to order in for dinner. Now, if you're saying that things are going to be different from now on…"

"Can't you see that they already are?" asks Kate, never expecting this to be so hard, to find Castle so resistant. "I'm trying here, Rick. And not because I feel I have to but because I actually _want_ to. Being apart from you showed me what was important…that _you_ are what's important to me."

* * *

Kate pauses in front of a bench that's set back from the curb beneath a tree. She sits and pats the space next to her to get Castle to do the same.

"We're kind of sitting ducks here," he says, looking nervously up and down the street.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," she says, giving him a feeble smile and bumping him playfully with her shoulder.

Castle doesn't respond to her light-hearted overture.

"Look, Meredith was important to me at one time, as I was to her," explains Castle, quietly, picking up on Kate's last point. "So was Gina. But they both plowed their own furrows without me eventually."

"And you think I'm going to do the same thing?" asks Kate, a hint of resignation and exhaustion in her voice.

"Kate, you already did," he reminds her, drawing a depressingly long sigh of a breath from her chest. "The major difference being, we hadn't even made it up the aisle yet."

"No wonder you don't trust me," she says, looking away. "Am I…is there even any point? Because the longer we talk, it's like we're going backwards or moving further apart from one another. Is this a lost cause, Castle? Please tell me it's not a lost cause," she adds, giving him no time to answer her negative assertion.

"No," he says, gently, taking her hand and placing it on his thigh and then covering it with one of his own. "Of course it isn't. And you only think we're moving further apart. But we're not, not really. Talking is helping."

"Are you sure?" asks Kate, doubtfully.

"Yes. Not talking about things, about our differences, our needs and expectations, that's what got us in this mess in the first place."

"So…what do we do?" asks Kate, all the drive and momentum she felt earlier that day drained out of her.

"We finish packing up your apartment, then we pick a destination and we go on vacation like we planned…try and figure this out."

"I still love you, you know," says Kate, earnestly, after a long, heavy pause. "In fact, I love you more now after everything, if that's even possible. I want this to work, Castle. I really do," she assures him, intently, turning on the bench until her knees bump up against his thigh.

"I know you do," he replies, quietly, slipping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her back to lean against him. "I love you too. I'm sorry this is so hard. But I can't change the past, Kate, anymore than you can. And I can't make things better for you, much as I'd like to. It's just going to take some time."

"How long?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that. But I have a feeling it'll be worth it. I think this could make us stronger in the long run," he tells her, kissing the top of her head.

_Thoughts?_


	5. Chapter 5 - Packing Up And Shipping Out

_A/N: Apologies for the delay. I've been travelling. Any typos or errors I'm putting down to jet lag. Enjoy!_

* * *

_**Chapter 5 – Packing Up and Shipping Out**_

"Castle, do you have the tape? I can't find the tape," says Kate, frantically spinning in a circle in the middle of the open plan living room-come-kitchen, one hand on her hip, the other holding onto her ponytail as she scans the room.

"Hey, take it easy," he replies, stacking the last of Kate's books into a box. "It's around here somewhere. We'll find it. Just…take a breath."

"Castle, they'll be here in less than an hour," frets Kate, lifting throw pillows off the sofa to hunt for it, toppling a neatly folded pile of bed linen in the process.

"Here," replies Castle, handing her the roll of shiny brown packing tape he just recovered from underneath an armchair where it had apparently taken refuge from Kate's rather vicious scissor snips. "Look, we're almost done. Why don't you make us some coffee?" he suggests, looking for some way to distract her and calm her down.

* * *

He knows that she slept because he was awake for an hour during the night just watching her breathe. They got home from their walk, ate the pizza they brought back with them and drank a bottle of wine, while they stuck strictly to conversational topics of little or no importance after their long heart-to-heart out on the streets of DC.

Close to midnight, they got ready for bed, brushed their teeth side-by-side and then settled in for the night. The framework provided by their earlier talk set the level of expectation between them as regards intimacy.

In the dark, as they lay listening to the city sounds outside and the intermittent click and whirr of the a/c unit firing up and powering down, Kate's voice broke the silence.

"Is it wrong that I don't regret anything that's happened if we come out the other side of this nightmare stronger?" she asks him, her irises glittering in the dark like tiger eye gemstones as she stares up at the ceiling.

"Nothing about us has ever been easy. But there have been a few experiences lately that I wish neither of us had to go through," observes Castle, sagely.

"I…I'm sorry. Of course. That was a stupid thing to say," rushes out Kate, before thumping her pillow and rolling away from Castle onto her side, too embarrassed by her thoughtless, naïve remark to carry on the conversation any longer.

She lets the concealing darkness claim her and shroud her until she feels his hand land on her shoulder. She lies there unmoving, following its slow, gentle path down her bare arm with her eyes still closed. Castle shifts on the mattress to an accompanying creak of springs and a rustle of sheets.

"Hey?" he whispers, moving closer until his chest brushes up against her shoulder blades and he settles back, leaving an inch or two between them.

Kate stiffens. Her whole being aches for him, but she resists making more of his gesture than she hopes it means. She's made enough mistakes already, and coupled with the request he made for more time earlier this evening, making a move on him now would be crass and selfish.

Castle tentatively places a hand on her hip and when she doesn't protest or resist, he smoothes his flattened palm across her stomach over her cotton tank, drawing her into a kind of backwards embrace.

* * *

"I feel as if I keep saying the wrong thing here, Castle," Kate laments, tentatively placing her own hand on top of his and giving it a squeeze. She takes a deep breath. "It's as if every time I open my mouth I just make things worse."

Nudging her hair away from her neck with his nose, he brushes the shell of her ear with his lips when he whispers into the darkness.

"Beckett, that's my job," he jokes, finally resting his chin on her shoulder, succeeding in drawing a squirm and a giggle from her when he flexes his fingers against her stomach muscles.

"Goofball!" she grins, despite herself, nudging him away with her elbow.

She's surprised but grateful for the effort he's making; his uncanny ability to defuse tension with humor, a trait that she's come to both love and rely on.

"Yes. That _is_ my middle name," he clowns, letting her feel his smile against her hair.

"I thought it was Edgar Alexander," she replies, joining in if he's willing to be this playful, even if the bottle of Sancerre they consumed with their pizza is to be credited for the lightheartedness he's rediscovered all of a sudden.

"It is," he replies, resting his cheek against her shoulder. "For legal documents and such."

"_Ah_," grins Kate, buoyed up by the humor in his voice, even though she can't see his smiling face. "So Richard _Goofball_ Castle, that would be your…?"

"My _unofficial_ moniker," he confirms, straight-faced, drawing another giggle from her when he sighs theatrically, his wine-fragranced breath tickling her neck.

"Glad we cleared that up."

"My pleasure Katherine Houghton," he replies, stopping short of adding her surname, since they both come crashing up against the bittersweet memory of the last time he used her full name; the day he proposed.

Kate makes to move in bed, to free herself from his embrace, the memory of her biggest mistake too difficult to take at this close proximity, but Castle won't let her go.

"_See_," he says more seriously. "Saying the wrong thing is definitely _my _preserve."

"It's…don't worry. It's fine," sighs Kate, patting his hand platonically where it remains flattened against her stomach, as you might greet a neighbor's dog.

Castle finally releases her, but only so that he can roll her onto her back in order that they can see one another. He props himself up on his elbow, his face bathed in pale grey light.

"You've done a great job getting us here, Kate," he tells her, meaning every word. "And I appreciate your openness and your honesty. But getting us back on track needs to be a team effort, and I intend to hold up my end, so don't feel as if you have to carry all of this for the both of us. Okay?"

Kate nods, her hair whispering against the pillowcase.

"I know I haven't been easy to deal with lately…" he starts to say.

"Shhh," she whispers, touching her finger to his lips. "You get a free pass given what you've been through," she rushes to reassure him.

"Still, let me pick up some of the slack. I really want to help you pack, and then we'll sit down and make a plan together. This vacation is exactly what we need."

"I agree."

"Good. Now, get some sleep," he tells her, smoothing her hair back from her forehead and kissing her on the cheek.

* * *

True to his word, Castle is up and dressed before her, coffee made and a hasty breakfast of cereal and fruit laid out on the small table by the time Kate surfaces.

He takes instruction from her without complaint in an effort to help her pack before the movers get there at noon.

"All this stuff is going to your dad's?" he asks, looking at the packing labels Kate is going around affixing to the top of each box.

"Yeah. I…he offered until I can get back, and…" she trails off, shrugging.

"He has space for all of this?" asks Castle, surveying the neat cardboard cubes lined up across the living room.

"He says he does. I wasn't exactly in a position to—"

"Kate, we could have shipped these to the loft," interrupts Castle, looking just slightly put out that she didn't think of that.

"Castle," she sighs, marking the contents of the last box with a sharpie before sealing it up. "We were…I would never presume. It was too messy…too undecided, when I was making plans to come back to the city. I had to give the shipping company an address when I made the booking, so…" she shrugs.

"I understand," he nods, not pushing the point. "But next time…talk to me, okay?" he asks, quietly, catching her eye and holding her gaze for a meaningful second or two.

Kate nods in reply, before adding confidently: "There won't be a next time."

* * *

The men arrive on time, quickly clearing the apartment of every box, and suddenly they are left there alone in a space that looks a lot bigger and even more impersonal than it did when they arrived.

"Wow! Hospital décor circa 1982," Castle comments, looking around the place as if he just walked through the door for the first time.

"Thanks," says Kate, dryly.

"I—I'm sorry. That was…"

"_Honest?_" offers Kate, waving away his remark to let him know that it's fine.

"I was going to say rude."

"Actually, the drabness of this place helped," she tells him, looking around the open-plan living space herself. "Kind of like a penance. My nun's cell. Reminded me of what I'd walked away from. _You_, a home…or _our_ homes, whatever," she tells him, stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, a little embarrassed to sound so self-pitying given her arrival here was her own decision. "But, hey, you make your bed, right?" she adds, laughing bitterly.

"Actually, _I_ made the bed this morning," he jokes, quickly guiding her out of this little cul-de-sac of introspection she's washed up in.

* * *

Castle makes them coffee and they settle at the small dining table in front of Kate's laptop to figure out a vacation plan. They're functioning on an emotional seesaw at the moment, and, though the oscillation seems to be evening out somewhat, there's still a long way to go until they reach an equilibrium. They both hope this trip will offer the stability that will finally even things out between them.

Kate is still keen on her original idea of a road trip across Virginia to see the fall colors. She wants them to do something and go somewhere neither of them have been before – something low key that will give them plenty of time together without any major distractions, something that doesn't involve long flights or five stars or obsequious, invasive resort staff waiting to cater to your every whim. She wants simple, personal: a back-to-nature kind of vacation.

Their timing is perfect, according to the Fall Foliage Report on the Commonwealth of Virginia's official tourism website.

"Are you sure I can't persuade you to _hop a flight to Miami Beach or to_—" sings Castle, trying to take control of the computer.

"No," smiles Kate, shaking her head. "No. I want us to disconnect from everything. No cell phones, no email, no calls from Paula reminding you about an upcoming event and _no_ Gina hassling you about your next chapter."

"I thought you cleared my schedule with Paula? Which, incidentally, was one of the hottest things I think you've ever done," he adds, letting his mouth run away unfiltered since he seems to be getting surprisingly giddy over this trip already and they haven't even left yet. "After packing a bag for me, that is," he adds, resting his chin on his hands and smiling adorably at her.

"You thought me packing your stuff was… _Why?_" frowns Kate, leaning one elbow on the table and pushing her fingers through her hair to loosen her ponytail.

She has a smile on her lips as she waits for his answer, preparing to be amused given the happy mood he appears to be in. But when it comes, his response is more sweet and profound than she expects, even slightly sad.

"No one's ever done anything like that for me before. Taken care to choose and pack the things I needed, the things I _liked_. In fact, I don't think anyone ever knew me well enough to even _notice_ the things I liked," he confesses, candidly.

"Not even Meredith or Gina? But they were your _wives_," points out Kate.

"Yeah, I know. You'd think packing your husband's suitcase would be a principal tenet of wifely duties. Apparently not," shrugs Castle.

"_Wifely_ _duties_?" smirks Kate, folding her arms across her chest. "What, like right up there alongside conjugal rights?"

"No, I—I didn't mean…" flounders Castle, as Kate looks at him with fake seriousness.

"Well, if you put it like that I can see why they refused," she teases, flicking his hand off the keyboard and taking control of the laptop.

"No, Kate. No, you mustn't think that I'm some kind of…of…"

"_Neanderthal_ who believes his wife is his property and only there to do his manly bidding?" suggests Kate, managing to keep her face straight by some minor miracle.

"_What?_ Where did you get that impression?" he chokes, his eyes growing large.

Finally Kate laughs, putting him out of his misery.

"Relax, Castle," she smirks, patting his hand. "You forget I've met both your ex-wives. No way either of them would ever let you get away with pulling crap like that."

"True," he nods, with some relief. "_Not_ that I would even think of trying anything of that nature in the first place," he reassures her. "Men and women were created equal in my book," he adds, a little pompously.

"Oh, yeah?" drawls Kate, reeling him in with a pleasant, but deadly smile. "And which book would that be?" she asks, cocking her head to one side with interest. "The one where Nikki is _naked_ on the front cover while Rook gets to wear clothes? Oh, no. That's right. I forgot," she says, smacking her forehead. "Nikki is naked on the front covers of _all_ your books, while Jamieson Rook is nowhere to be found. You know, that kind of doesn't look in anyway equal to me."

"I—" stutters Castle.

"_Ha!_ Got you there, Writer Man," declares Kate, laughing at Castle's shocked, frustrated expression.

"I will make sure that Nikki is wearing clothes on the front cover of my next book if that makes you happy."

"Something slutty?" asks Kate, arching one eyebrow and pursing her lips.

"Don't you know it!" laughs Castle.

"Thought so. Well, just for that, and to even up the…eh, _equality_ stakes here, I'm pulling rank," declares Kate, rising abruptly from the table and walking off towards the bedroom. "Time to pack your own bag, Castle. We're going to Virginia!"

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	6. Chapter 6 - The Open Road

_**Chapter 6 – The Open Road**_

"A _cabin_?" squeaks Castle, sending Kate frantic glances while trying to keep his eyes on the road up ahead.

"What's the matter, Castle? Thought you'd be eager to channel your inner outdoorsman again," teases Kate. "Remember your orange, florescent hunting gear when we went looking for big foot?"

"You brought it?" he asks eagerly. "Cos I didn't notice it in my case," he adds, eyeing the back seat of their rental car with covetous glee.

"_No!_" laughs Kate, watching his face deflate from a look of excited hope to one of alarm.

"But what if we need it?" he asks, petulantly.

"I've gotten this far in life without dressing up in an florescent onesie to go out into the woods," scoffs Kate. "I think we'll survive."

"Out into the woods. See, you keep repeating that like you're trying to scare me."

Kate laughs, tipping her head back against the headrest, her feet propped up on the dashboard, red-varnished toes wiggling, feeling freer than she has in months, and they're still a half hour outside of Luray.

* * *

They crossed the Potomac River, leaving Washington DC behind. Kate never once looked back as they took the I-66 through Arlington and Fairfax counties, heading west. The sun slid lower throughout the afternoon, lengthening shadows and painting the buildings and fields on either side of the Interstate in shades of yellow, ocher, gold and, eventually, a cool heathery mauve.

A small squabble over the rental car upgrade - Castle wanted a Mustang convertible, Kate insisted on a Buick mid-range SUV - kept them later in leaving than she'd have liked. Packing the car, dropping the apartment keys off with the realtor – these small tasks took their toll on the early start Kate had hoped to get as soon as the movers left. But as they slid into the state of Virginia with the sun in their eyes, the road stretching out up ahead, she couldn't find the energy to care that they were getting their trip underway later than she'd hoped. Luray, the small town she'd chosen for their first night's stay, was less than two hours away. All that mattered was this moment with its promise of a fresh start, of fun, of a chance to find their way back to one another…a chance to win Castle back again.

She found that she viewed him as a treasure now, one that she had carelessly cast aside to follow a different, bright, shiny, false dawn. The truth had never seemed clearer, her love for him never shone brighter than these past few days, and she felt unmasked enough by all the difficulties they had been through to tell him this time, to share her feelings openly with him just as soon as she felt he was strong enough.

His love for her had never been in doubt. So she wanted to give him time to rediscover his own equilibrium, his own strength, since her words of love were so important to him that she knew sharing her heart too soon could easily seem like a manipulation; an abuse of the power she held over him, if she wielded the words too quickly.

But they had time to heal now, to come together gradually, and she intended to make best use of it for both their sakes – to show him what their future could be if they could find a way back to one another. She actually felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

* * *

They were only yards over the county line into Arlington, VA when a large roadside welcome sign announced: _'Virginia Is For Lovers'_. Kate had seen the tourism corporation's marketing slogan on the website, and had vainly hoped that Castle hadn't noticed the red heart logo and swirly, romantic script emblazoned on the top corner of every page. Here, with the foot high letters flashing past at speed, she hoped he'd miss it again. They hadn't been lovers for months, aside from that one frantic night at the loft after he was freed, and she didn't want him thinking there was any agenda or expectation on her part…beyond the faint hope that there was some kind of expectation on his part too, she prayed.

"And I thought Virginia was for ham," quips Castle, pointing at the sign before it whips past them in a streak of red, white and orange.

And nope, not a chance this man would ever miss anything you wanted him too, she thinks, fighting back a grin.

"Ham?" Kate repeats, reflexively, frowning to feign ignorance.

But the pathetic smile playing at her lips ruins the serious affect she's aiming to present.

"Yeah. You know - Virginia ham, salt-cured in Smithfield. It's world famous, Beckett."

"I have heard of Virginia ham before, Castle," replies Kate, witheringly.

"Right. So…they're claiming the state is famous for its lovers. Name me _one_ famous Virginian lover," he challenges.

"I—I don't think that's exactly what they meant," replies Kate, feeling her cheeks heat up if she has to get any more specific about the implications behind this stupid tourism marketing campaign.

"_See!_ You can't because there _are_ no famous Virginian lovers," declares Castle.

"Eh…name me _one_ famous lover period," responds Kate, leaning her elbow against the window to look at him, a slow smile on her face.

She's landing herself in some tricky, potentially uncomfortable cul-de-sac here, she knows, but she's too giddy to care. He's fun at this kind of game, and she wants to see him smile and laugh again.

"Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton," fires off Castle, smugly.

"Twice divorced," replies Kate, dryly, looking out the side window as fields rush by.

"Edward and Mrs. Simpson," he counters.

"Brought down a monarchy."

"Adam and Eve. _Booya!_" he yells, accidentally honking the horn.

"Birth of human shame and suffering," replies Kate, shaking her head.

"Okay, Romeo and Juliet."

"_Seriously?_" laughs Kate, staring at Castle, who gives her a quick wounded glance and trains his eyes back on the road.

She can see the cogs of his tricky, encyclopedic brain turning.

"Actually, I think Warren Beatty may have come from Virginia," muses Castle.

"_Eww_," winces Kate, wrinkling her nose.

"Okay, okay…Homer and Marge!" he yells, triumphantly, smacking his hand on the steering wheel, before quickly adding, "Barbie and Ken. Eh…Donald and Daisy Duck."

"We've degenerated to cartoon figures and plastic icons of unrealistic anatomical proportion remarkably quickly," she mocks scathingly, loving how his mind works nonetheless.

"You didn't have a Barbie doll when you were a little girl, did you?" Castle says, already shaking his head.

"That would be correct," replies Kate, resting her mouth on the back of her hand, suppressing another grin, her eyes now twinkling with mirth. "How did you know?"

"Just…just a wild guess," replies Castle, shooting her a boyish grin.

"Did they even _have_ Ken dolls when you were a kid?" she giggles, watching for the widening of his eyes she knows will follow her cheeky remark.

"They were called action figures, Beckett, and yes."

"Oh, no. Na-huh. _G.I. Joe_ was an action figure. Ken Carter was a doll."

"For someone who didn't own any of these childhood icons, you seem to know an awful lot about them," he points out. "His last name was _Carter_?" he asks, giving her a strange look.

"Childhood icons?" scoffs Kate. "Ken's underpants were permanently _molded_ to his body and he had _no genitals_."

Castle snorts out a laugh at her last remark.

"And you know this how?" he says, breathlessly, wiping at his eyes.

"My friend Carrie. She had the whole set. Barbie, Ken, Christie and Brad, the horse, the jeep, the swimming pool… The whole plastic, fantastic, materialistic, vapid nightmare. She used to make us act out double dates. Ugh! When I think back…" groans Kate, shaking her head in disgust.

Castle starts to laugh.

"_What?_" demands Kate, finding herself laughing too.

"_You!_ It's just…the thought of you dressing up dolls and playing make-believe while you crawled around the floor on your bony little knees…"

He shakes his head, his smile fading to a wistful look.

"Are you saying there's something wrong with my knees, Castle?" smirks Kate, intrigued that he's so affected by this idea of her as a child.

"No. No, of course not. It's just that I find it hard to imagine you as anything but the serious, fierce, poised, kickass Detective you were when I met you."

He falls silent for a second or two before he speaks again.

"There's still so much I don't know about you," he says, staring off to the left, out the driver's side window.

* * *

The drive has been like this the whole way; that seesaw oscillation of emotion still swinging to and fro like a pendulum between giddy levity and periods of quiet introspection where Kate worries she won't be able to reach him again.

"Hey," she says, briefly brushing his thigh with her fingertips to get his attention.

"Mmm?" murmurs Castle, finally shedding the mournful look that had suddenly settled over him.

"I could say the same thing about you, you know. But we were getting there…before I messed things up. Castle, that's what lifetimes are for. Or so I hear," adds Kate, quickly, looking away, a little embarrassed to be caught preaching when she fell at the first life-commitment hurdle.

"Go on," encourages Castle. "Tell me more."

"No," says Kate, shaking her head. "I…I clearly don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, I for one would like to hear your theory. It sounded like a good one. And God knows I've subjected you to enough of mine over the years."

Kate laughs. She finds she can't help it since his words ring so true.

"Okay, well, I just think that people share little pieces of themselves as they go through life together. You can't expect to know everything up front."

"Even after five years together?" asks Castle quietly, giving her a meaningful look.

"Even after five years," nods Kate, tentatively looking back at him. "It might be circumstance – like this trip for example – that stirs a memory, and you share. Or a conversation or a crisis or a dream or a nightmare or a TV show you watch together…all these things have the potential to draw out old memories."

"Sounds like a rigorous, well-thought-out theory to me," he replies, giving her a nudge to break _her_ serious, pensive mood.

He's rewarded with a brief, beaming smile that lights up the front section of the SUV.

"Not long now," says Kate, changing the subject. "Luray should be just a couple of miles up ahead."

* * *

They're on US-340 S, having turned off the Interstate some twenty-odd miles back.

"Okay, the cabin's on Main Street. 138 East," confirms Kate, checking her phone for the email copy of the reservation she made earlier.

"Well, if it's on Main Street, we're not exactly talking chop your own firewood, are we?" points out Castle, smugly.

"Would it be a problem if we were?" challenges Kate.

She's seen the 'cabin', which is actually an old Inn, and there is _nothing_ remotely backwoodsman about it. But she's happy to string Castle along until they arrive.

"I packed your plaid flannel shirt. With _your_ muscles and _that_ shirt, you'd have no problem passing as a lumberjack," she teases, getting rewarded by a little flash of surprise in the face of her partner.

"Kate, we're supposed to be on a _relaxing_ vacation," he counters, his tone a little earnest. "If I'd wanted to forage for my own fuel supply I'd have—"

"Relax," interrupts Kate, squirming in her seat with excitement. "_There!_" she calls out, pointing to the warm yellow and white painted house on the right up ahead, with its cheerful wooden siding, ornate turret, Southern traditional front porch and a white picket fence bordering the neat yard.

"Why you little minx," declares Castle, answering her grin with one of his own. "_This_ is the cabin you kept referring to? It's so pretty, and _not _in the middle of nowhere, thankfully."

"No need to sound so disappointed, Castle," laughs Kate. "Just wait til you see where I booked us in next," she grins, already throwing open the door and climbing out of the car.

* * *

An older man, tall and stocky with close-cropped, salt and pepper hair, and wearing a plaid shirt remarkably similar to the one Kate has packed for Castle, appears on the front porch to welcome them.

"Afternoon," he says, holding out his hand to Kate. "I'm Jerry Hudson. And you must be Mr. and Mrs. Beckett," he declares, warmly shaking Kate's hand.

"Uh…I…no. We're not actually…" Kate shakes her head, as Castle appears by her side carrying both of their bags.

"You're not the Becketts?" asks the man, looking from Kate to Castle and back.

"Well…_I _am Kate Beckett and this is—"

"_Richard Castle_, as I live and breathe!" the man declares, completely ignoring Kate's ham-fisted explanation to shake the writer's hand, recognizing him as soon as he sets eyes on him.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir," replies Castle easily, accepting a friendly slap on the back.

"You should just have said," Jerry Hudson whispers to both of them, covering the side of his mouth with his hand and looking over his shoulder as if someone might actually be spying on them.

"Should have said?" repeats Kate, shaking her head and raising her eyebrows for an explanation.

"That you were travelling incognito," replies the man, in a stage whisper so loud that it could quite possibly scare nesting birds out of the trees.

"Oh, that," laughs Castle, giving Kate a nudge. "Yeah, well, my fans can get a little crazy sometimes, so we have been known to travel under Kate's maiden name," he lies, slipping his arm around her waist and drawing her into his side. "Isn't that right, honey?" he asks, leaning down to kiss her shocked looking cheek.

The man smiles at them as if they are the most adorable couple he's ever met, and Kate stares back, nodding inanely at nothing in particular. She feels confused, thrown off-kilter by this welcome and Castle's strange (though strangely familiar) behavior.

"Right, well, darkness'll be here any minute. How about I help you inside with those and we get you settled? My wife, Missy, is just dying to meet you both."

As if by magic the porch lanterns illuminate, mysteriously turning a lavender twilight into velvet darkness all around them as they cast their narrow pool of warm yellow light onto the red brick herringbone pathway that leads from the front gate all the way to the wooden porch steps.

"Missy? Missy, my love, they're here," calls Mr. Hudson, dropping their bags on the polished wooden floor inside the front door and rushing off in pursuit of his wife, calling out, "And I have the most wonderful surprise!" as he goes.

* * *

"Castle, what were you thinking?" hisses Kate, turning to face the writer, hurt and confusion etched on her face.

"I—"

"_Well?_" she demands, her hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry. But I though they might object to us sharing a room since we're…_you know_," he whispers, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

"No, I don't. Enlighten me," instructs Kate, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Living in sin," he whispers.

"Living in…_what?_" repeats Kate, witheringly, muttering, "Chance would be a fine thing," under her breath.

"It was kind of a knee-jerk reaction," continues Castle, piling up excuses. "You used to hate it when I pulled stuff like that…embarrassed you. Old habits," he confesses, with a shrug and what he hopes is a winning grin.

"_Old habits?_" repeats Kate, staring up at him, thinking: 'and _that's_ the best old habit you could find to repeat?'

"We're here to _fix_ our relationship, to…to _end_ the lies, Castle, and you've just started us off with a big, fat, new one."

"I know," he whines a little. "I know, and I'm sorry. But look it's not exactly as if we couldn't have been…I mean…" he shudders to a halt at the tearful look on Kate's face.

"Couldn't have been what?" she whispers hoarsely, her lower lip trembling slightly.

"Married," he replies, soberly. "By now…if…"

"If I hadn't screwed up," fills in Kate, pushing past him to go back out onto the porch for some air just as Mrs. Melissa Hudson, the lady of the house, appears in the hallway to greet them both.

Her hands are dusted with flour and she wipes them off on the white cotton apron she's wearing, the fabric decorated with neat rows of carved pumpkins and tumbling autumn leaves.

"Mr. Castle, my husband said you were here. But I told him I wouldn't believe him until I saw you with my own eyes. And what a sight you are to behold," she declares, vigorously shaking his hand. "I'm such a fan of your writing. And your beautiful wife?" she asks, looking behind Castle with hopeful expectation.

"She…uh…she wanted another look at that lovely view you have. What a beautiful porch," declares Castle, with such vehemence that Missy Hudson looks at him a little suspiciously.

He's on the point of confessing, already saying the words, "Listen, there may have been a little misunderstanding when we arrived. You see the fact of the matter is…" when he hears Kate's voice from a foot or so behind him.

"Mrs. Hudson," he hears her say clearly, calmly, the screen door creaking and clattering against its frame at her back. "I'm Kate. So lovely to meet you. You have a beautiful home," she adds, giving the woman a bright smile.

"Oh, my! The silly old fool wasn't lying," she says, taking Kate's hand in both of her own and giving it a squeeze. "You are a stunner, darlin'," she declares, before turning to Castle to add, "You got yourself one beautiful wife, Mr. Castle."

Kate looks at Castle, and she can see in his eyes that he wants to tell the woman that 'yes, he does have a beautiful wife,' but sadly he can't. At least not yet.

"Actually…" he begins to correct instead, shuffling his feet uncomfortably, only to be silenced by Kate, who cuts in and simply says, "_Thank you_."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	7. Chapter 7 - Fifty Shades of Pink

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews. I'm glad the pacing seems to be to most people's liking._

* * *

_**Chapter 7 – Fifty Shades of Pink**_

"We've put you in the Boudoir Suite," announces Missy Hudson, as Kate and Castle climb the polished wooden central staircase behind her 'combine' of a husband, who is carrying both their cases upstairs as if they weigh no more than a couple of takeout cartons of Chinese food.

The writer and the soon-to-be reinstated Detective turn to one another as they climb the stairs, trading glances, before Kate summons the courage to look back at Missy and ask:

"The Boudoir Suite?"

"Mmm, we call it 'our romantic's dream'," she replies, a beatific smile on her face. "You're lucky you hit a little slow spot in our bookings. That suite is usually the first one to go," she announces proudly.

"Sounds…uh…_special_," replies Kate, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, just wait til you see it," bellows Jerry, from several steps up above them. "Got a Jacuzzi for two, King Size four poster bed, working fireplace—"

"And if you'd stop chattering and hurry on up there they could see for themselves, dear," chides Missy, scolding her husband.

* * *

Kate's mouth feels dry. She looked at the location online, which was close enough to D.C. for them to make before dark with just a couple of hours driving time, and she vaguely checked the room rate. But she can't remember looking at the accommodation in any great detail, other than at the pictures of the outside of the Inn, which struck her as pretty and old-fashioned in a fitting country sort of way for a fall trip such as theirs.

She hopes Castle doesn't think this is some kind of underhand, romantic plan designed to reignite their physical relationship. In fact she'd be mortified if he thought she'd stoop to that after he asked her for time to sort things out when they were back in DC.

So she can't even look at him when they finally enter the room.

The décor is indeed a romantic's dream – if you like Harlequin Romance novels, daytime made-for-TV movies and if you dream in fifty shades of pink. The color is everywhere. From plum through mauve, magenta, puce, cerise…there may even be something _Barbie-_colored lurking in the bathroom, Kate wouldn't be surprised to find.

* * *

"So?" asks Missy, breathless with expectation, her eyes beaming bright and shiny. "What do you think?"

"It's uh…" stalls Castle, swallowing hard, running his hand over his stubbled jaw as he surveys the room.

The writer suddenly at a loss for words.

"I think we stunned them good, pumpkin," grins Jerry Hudson, looking adoringly at his bossy wife.

"That you…uh…that you did," confirms Castle, with an emphatic nod.

Castle turns to look at Kate, whose cheeks, she's pretty sure, now match at least one of those fifty shades of pink.

"It's so…" she says, smiling tightly at the Hudsons, "…so _pretty_," she finally forces out.

"And a little sexy too," adds Missy, raising a suggestive eyebrow at Kate and then giving her a knowing wink.

"Definitely…something like that," nods Kate, turning away to face the fireplace when she can stand the expectant looks of the Hudsons no longer.

"Jacuzzi's in the large bathroom," announces Missy, leading their little group into the en suite. "Big enough for two, as Jerry said. And we can arrange in-room couples massages if y'all would like. There's a girl in the town. Real pretty. Runs the beauty salon further down Main Street. She's happy to make house calls if you give her half a day's notice."

"Eh…that won't be…" replies Kate, shaking her head in embarrassment.

"We'll let you know," interjects Castle, trampling over Kate's hasty refusal.

"Right. Well, we will let you lovebirds get settled in," says Missy, brightly. "Just holler if you need anything. Dinner is at seven. I assume you'll be joining us for dinner tonight?" she asks, glancing at both of them expectantly. "I'm making my speciality."

"We…eh…?" flounders Kate, looking at Castle in panic.

"We would love to," replies the writer, smoothly, smiling confidently at their hosts. "Wouldn't we, honey?"

"Sure," answers Kate, meekly, literally biting her tongue.

* * *

"Castle, what _was_ that?" she hisses, as soon as he closes the door on their eager hosts.

"Kate, would you just relax," he replies, dismissively, immediately searching the room for the TV remote.

"Relax? Castle, just look at this place," she says, spinning in a circle.

"What?" he grins, enjoying her uptight, old-style Kate reaction to the frou-frou, ersatz romance of the whole thing. "I kinda like it."

"You—? _Seriously?_"

"Yeah," he nods, and she can't help but notice how relaxed he looks, how far removed his demeanor now is from the pinched, haunted expression he's been wearing since she found him at her old apartment. "It's…"

"Chintzy," throws in Kate, letting her shoulders finally slump a little from their tense location up around her ears.

"I was going to say cute, actually. And a far cry from everything we've been living with lately."

"Cute?" asks Kate, in disbelief. "Did you see the lacey drapes above the Jacuzzi? I've seen _brothels_ with more style."

"Oooo, harsh, Beckett," he scolds, sucking in air through his teeth. "You've been in the city too long."

Kate laughs, and then looks at the floor, that errant blush returning to her cheeks, before she forces herself to look up at Castle again.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe I'm being a little harsh," she concedes, giving their suite a calmer, more impartial onceover.

"Pink suits you," says Castle, fondly, surprising her. "You should wear it more often," he teases, reaching for his suitcase.

"But I'm not…" replies Kate, in confusion, looking down at her blue jeans, black leather belt and white t-shirt.

"I wasn't talking about your clothes," grins Castle, cryptically, before tipping his chin towards her flushed face and then unzipping the top of his luggage.

"Right," she nods, tight-lipped, finally catching on to his meaning. "Good one," she says, turning away to look for her own case, letting a grin slip out when she hopes Castle can't see.

* * *

"How many nights are we booked in here?" Castle calls from inside the bathroom a few minutes later, where he's currently fiddling with the controls on the Jacuzzi.

"I just booked one. Thought you'd want to move on somewhere else tomorrow," calls out Kate.

"But, Beckett, there's so much to see around Luray," he complains, poking his head around the bathroom door, a small stack of shiny tourist pamphlets in his hand that he found on a shelf beside the toilet.

"You want to spend more than one night? In _here_?" she asks, looking at the heavy, crushed-rose colored velvet drapes hanging at each corner of the four-poster bed, the dark mauve satin comforter, white antique lace-trimmed pillowcases and the studded, blush-colored velvet ottoman at the bottom of the bed.

The wallpaper is so floral and the soft furnishings so plump that it feels as if they've landed up inside a giant, pink lung. At times Kate feels as if the walls are closing in on them.

"Yeah. I love it," he declares, bouncing on the over-stuffed mattress, the patterned carpet swirling beneath his feet.

"Why?" asks Kate, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Come on. What's not to like? The Hudsons seem like lovely people, our room is—"

"_Tragic_," interjects Kate, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Romantic," insists Castle, ignoring her killjoy attitude.

"Romance hasn't exactly been our strong point lately," points out Kate, grabbing the pink elephant in the room by its trunk, "in case you haven't noticed."

"Maybe not," replies Castle, quietly. "But that doesn't mean we go back in time to when we were just partners or…or friends, does it? I mean you wanted this trip, Kate. You planned it. And I love that. It's so unlike you to be this...this spontaneous, this impulsive or crazy..."

"When you say it like that it doesn't sound so good."

"No, it's all good," argues Castle. "You wanted this vacation to help us…get back on track," he whispers.

Kate looks in alarm at the bedroom door.

"Do you think they're out there..._listening_?" she whispers back.

"No."

"Okay, good," she replies, looking relieved.

"Probably not," adds Castle, drawing a bug-eyed stare from Kate.

"Kidding. I'm just kidding," he tells her, giving her a goofy grin and holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Look…I…you _have_ to know that I didn't choose this place because it offered some kind of corny stage set in which to seduce you," she tries to assure him.

"_I_ know that. One look around here tells me this isn't your usual MO. You'd have taken me to the firing range or a magic store if you'd really wanted to seduce me," he teases.

But Kate doesn't smile back.

"Hey, I trust you…I do," he says, a little unconvincingly.

"You trust me with your life, but not your heart. That's it, isn't it?"

"I trust you," he repeats quietly, looking down at his own clasped hands lying inert in his lap. "I don't think you meant to hurt me."

"Of course I didn't—" protests Kate.

"I just don't think you could help yourself," he adds, silencing her.

"Castle…" she sighs, as she watches him get up off the bed.

"Let's ask if they have a vacancy for one or two more nights. We can make this place our base, check out the local area. Who knows, we might even book one of those couples massages," he adds, kneeling on the floor to dig in his suitcase, while Kate stares at the broad sweep of his curved back, deep regret coursing through her.

* * *

They get ready for dinner – wash their faces, brush their teeth, Kate puts on a fresh shirt – a filmy cream blouse with pockets on the front that she wondered if she'd even wear on this trip. Castle throws a black, cashmere v-neck sweater on with his own dark jeans.

Kate watches him tug it down over his torso, enviously, his arms still stiff in their sockets from Tyson's days of abuse.

The glimpses she gets of that time – they hurt and she finds it hard not to cast herself as completely culpable for the nightmare that he had to go through before she could get to him. Some small part of her brain keeps telling her that Tyson punished her for leaving Castle, in a way that her kind, forgiving, generous partner never would. But she knows that if she dwells on that theory, she will poison any chance they have of fixing what they have left, and so she stuffs it down inside and tries to focus on the future; on what they have here and now.

She caught him watching her as she re-applied her make-up - little side-long glances that turned to outright staring after a very short while. She never called him out on it, only too happy to be the subject of his 'creepy staring', as she would once have called it, after everything she's put him through, and everything they've had to face together. He looked adoringly at her, not in the least bit embarrassed when she finally let him see that she knew what he was doing. Being the focus of this man's attention feels different from anyone else she's ever been with - he never made her feel less than adored since they got together. Never once did she feel claustrophobic or trapped as she used to not long after a relationship grew more serious. She was a fool to think she could ever give that up; that there was anything worth giving him up for.

* * *

"Here," says Castle, getting up off his knees to hand her something he just fished out of his case, "you might want to wear this to dinner."

Kate quickly realizes - with a rush of excitement and panic - that he's holding out the engagement ring he proposed to her with.

"What? _No!_" she chokes out, holding up her hands defensively. "I'm not wearing that."

"Why?" asks Castle, and he looks as if he is genuinely unsure of the answer.

"Why? Because I told you when I gave it back to you. I haven't _earned_ the right to wear that ring, Castle."

"Kate," he sighs, trying to foist it on her again, the diamonds sparkling in the lamplight as he holds it out in front of her. "It's just a ring. It doesn't have to mean—"

"But it does!" she declares, backing away from him, as if the ring is radioactive or has some kind of magic power. "At least it does to me."

"Look," he says, in his rarely used, super-sensible voice, "they already think that we're married…"

"And whose fault is that?" she interjects, her eyes constantly drawn back to the glittering thing lodged between his thumb and forefinger.

"We already agreed that was my bad. But since you backed me up down there when I was about to come clean, I think we should just play along. They're nice, sweet, God-fearing people who have opened their home to us, Kate. Do you want to shake their faith in humanity by making them look stupid and catch us in a harmless lie?"

"No."

"Then just put on the ring. Come on," he cajoles, trying to lighten the situation, "I don't want them thinking their favorite author is too mean to buy his wife a decent engagement ring."

"Castle, that's…that's not funny."

"None of this is funny, Kate," he says, his tone shifting back to serious without any effort. "Do you think this is easy for me? Do you?" he presses, when she doesn't answer.

"No, I guess not."

"Right. I…I look at you and you look the same to me…" he pauses, staring down at the ring he's now cradling in the palm of his hand.

"The same? I…I don't…?" stammers Kate, shaking her head.

"The same beautiful, intelligent, maddening woman I fell in love with. The same woman…my _best friend_, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and…"

"Castle…" whispers Kate, shaking her head.

"Please…just let me finish. Okay?" he requests, holding up one hand to silence her.

She nods, falling quiet just as he wishes.

"But I've seen a side to you that I never knew existed. I…I mean don't get me wrong, I knew you were good at compartmentalizing, I knew that you could focus on the job when you had to, even if the job involved the people closest to you. And…and I used to see that as a strength."

* * *

Kate watches Castle, her breath caught, biting the inside of her cheek, nails dug into the palm of her hand to stop herself from crying or reaching for him or trying to fix something she knows is not within her gift to fix right now.

"But you walked away from _us_," he says, letting the last word hang in midair before he speaks again, giving it a weight he clearly feels, letting her know that he expects her to understand exactly what he means and exactly how badly he thinks she judged things.

"From _us_, Kate," he repeats for emphasis.

"I know, I—" Kate begins to say, but he silences her again with a look.

"So there is no way that I couldn't look at you differently after that, question whether or not you saw our relationship and _me_ in the same way as _I_ viewed it…as I viewed you."

"So, why would you even want to pretend to be married to me now? For the sake of two strangers?"

"I guess I was protecting your honor to begin with," he confesses, glancing up at her to see her reaction to this admission.

"My honor?" repeats Kate, a little surprised by this explanation.

"Stupid, I know."

"Castle, not everyone who lives out in the country is stuck in the 1950's."

"I know. I know that. But maybe I also wanted them to _believe_ that we were married, Kate. Because _I_ wanted us to be married."

"You still do? After everything?"

"Feelings like that don't just go away. I saw how you were living in DC…or _not_ living, actually. You hadn't even unpacked, Kate. I'd say you knew pretty damn quickly that you'd made a mistake. I'm just hoping that a big part of that regret included walking away from what we had…more than just your job at the Twelfth."

"You know it did," confesses Kate, sinking down onto the bed. "I already told you that…more than once," she adds, without malice.

"Yeah," smiles Castle, wanly. "I can be slow at times. Takes me a while to catch up."

"_You? _ Slow?" mocks Kate, arching an eyebrow.

"Look, it's seven o'clock. We should go down for dinner. They'll be waiting," says Castle, checking the small, ornate antique clock on the dresser.

"Right," nods Kate, wondering if they're any further forward, or indeed further behind, for all the raw openness of their last exchange.

* * *

They leave the room together. Castle switches off the lights and ushers Kate down the stairs ahead of him, his hand hovering at her elbow on the highly polished wooden staircase.

When they get to the bottom, they look right and left. The main lounge is to the right of the entranceway. The dining room is set to the left hand side, the table dressed for an elegant dinner: with lit candelabra, an autumnal centerpiece, and a smoky, fragrant wood fire blazing in the hearth. The scene is so warm and welcoming – just exactly what they need.

Their host, Jerry Hudson, magically appears to usher them inside, suggesting where they both might like to sit, and then he leaves them to settle themselves while he goes to fetch the wine and warn his wife of their arrival.

"Here, you forgot this," says Castle quietly, after helping Kate into her straight-backed dining chair.

He slips the cool metal of the engagement ring into her palm, pressing it there, reaching for his napkin with his other hand, nodding sincerely to her. His eyes radiate a love and acceptance she's never seen burn so brightly in him before, just as Jerry reenters the room and Castle turns away to break out a jovial grin for the man.

She feels his hand land on top of her own once more, covering it in his warmth and generosity, and then he gives it a squeeze while he begins to answer Jerry's first question about how exactly they found the Inn.

Kate uses this momentary distraction to slip the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand for the very first time, finding it to be a perfect fit.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	8. Chapter 8 - Through Other People's Eyes

_**Chapter 8 – Through Other People's Eyes**_

Kate makes it halfway through the pureed pumpkin soup, with crispy bacon and toasted pumpkin seeds scattered on top, before Castle catches her admiring the ring on her left hand.

The candlelight strikes the facets - so new and yet ancient, sharp, beautiful and fearsome - every gutter and flicker sending rainbow pinpoints of light glittering in a small radius across the linen tablecloth Missy Hudson has spread over the antique mahogany dining table for their dinner tonight.

"Looks good on you," whispers Castle, when Missy and Jerry rise from the table to ferry their empty plates and the large porcelain soup terrine back into the kitchen.

Kate's eyes are drawn down to the ring again and then almost immediately back up to her partner's face. She couldn't look away if she wanted to. Her cheeks radiate a new, delicate shade of shell pink he's never seen before, leaving her looking breathless, fragile, infinitely softer…younger even.

And now it's his turn to stare.

"Thank you," she murmurs uncertainly, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, turned a little bashful by his compliment, unsure what any of this means.

* * *

Her long, dark lashes cast soft, feathery shadows on the high swell of her cheekbones when she lowers her gaze with an unconsciously seductive subservience he has seen but a few times in the past. Only in the throws of their love-making, when she would give herself over to him completely, unconditionally, so freely that the first time he witnessed this transformation in the woman he thought he knew – the woman he'd been following, observing and falling in love with for years – it shocked him so utterly that he had to stop what he was doing just to marvel at how such strength could coexist alongside so much softness and vulnerability.

In fact, his pause that night had caused such a puzzlement and concern in Kate that eventually required reassurance from him the first time it happened – the first time they were together in bed and Kate completely let go – no games, no teasing, no words, no seduction even. She let him see her stripped completely bare – literally and figuratively – and he felt as if she'd just handed him a gift. Call it absolute trust, control, power, faith – he'd never felt such confidence genuinely placed in his care before, and to see it coming from a woman like Kate Beckett was the most astounding thing of all.

Of course, it didn't last forever, and she regained the control she needed to function outside of their special, intimate bubble once the moment had passed. But these periods of openness grew longer when she was with him, the more they grew to know and trust one another as lovers and friends.

This was one of the key things Castle missed most after she left, because she drew out the same levels of trust and faith in him, once he saw how open and vulnerable she was prepared to make herself. All the damage his failed relationships had wrought on his psyche seemed to melt away in the face of such honesty and belief from a woman like Kate. And that was why her lie cut so deep.

So seeing this vulnerability rise to the surface in her again tonight disarms him, takes his breath away, transports him back in time and leaves him staring at her long after his conscious brain knows that he should look away.

* * *

"And here we have it," announces Jerry Hudson, placing a large, bright orange, cast-iron Dutch oven on a trivet in the center of the table. "Missy's famous Brunswick Stew," he reveals with a fanfare, ending any further discussion or staring for now.

"That smells wonderful," declares Kate, suddenly feeling ravenously hungry after weeks of having no appetite at all.

Castle watches her survey the food placed in front of them – a blue, oval stoneware gratin dish heaped high with mashed sweet potato, smaller dishes of green beans, butter beans, curly kale and a basket of homemade rolls. Missy adds a large silver ladle to the stew pot and some serving spoons for the vegetables, while Jerry tops up their wine.

The table looks festive, and the dinner, which started out as a stressful chore in Kate's mind, now seems like a warm, family occasion, and so she relaxes.

At the Hudson's insistence, Kate begins passing dishes to Castle, holding them while he serves himself and then does the same in return for her. They trade quick, nervous glances as they resume this social dance, which for them is familiar but at which they are a little out of practice.

The stew is thick and hearty, a mixture of meat and vegetables with a tomato base and an undeniably smoky flavor.

"Is this chicken, Missy?" asks Kate, tearing a soft, warm roll apart and dipping it into the stew.

"Chicken and rabbit," informs Missy Hudson, quickly adding, "Y'all aren't vegetarian, are you? I'm sorry, I should have checked."

"No. No, we're both meat eaters," replies Kate, slipping into this married couple fallacy they're found themselves ensnared in.

She's uncomfortable lying to these nice people, but since the alternative is coming clean…she's gritting her teeth and getting on with it.

"Do you enjoy spending time in the kitchen, Kate?" enquires Missy, as soon as they have all served themselves a plateful of the delicious home cooked food.

"I _can_ cook, yes. And I do find it relaxing. But, Castle is actually the chef in our…in our family," she manages to force out between mouthfuls, keeping her eyes trained on her plate and focusing on swallowing her food around this semi-fib.

Because he did do most of the cooking when they more or less lived together before Kate left. The question of whether they are family is a more complicated one. Undoubtedly they are in their own, modern take on what family has widened out to mean in their world – just as they consider Lanie and the boys part of their family. But whether this couple would see it that way, Kate is unsure.

* * *

"You know, I think it's so sweet that you call your husband _Castle_," observes Missy, her eyes twinkling as she looks across the table at the two of them.

"Jerry, do you remember when we were first dating?" their hostess asks, turning to look at her own husband. "He used to call me _Reece's Pieces_," she tells Kate. "And I hated it," she laughs, shaking her head slowly, dark curls, shot through just here and there with a single white hair, bouncing around her shoulders. "Or at least I used to pretend to him that I did," she tells Kate, with a wink.

"Her maiden name is Reece and the candy was new out back then," explains Jerry Husdon, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I thought it was cute. Heck, I thought _she_ was cute."

"I'm sure…I am sure you were indeed cute," corrects Castle, gallantly, smiling his charming smile at Mrs. Hudson.

"Thank you. Maybe back then I was. But I still love a good pet name, don't I, _Big_—"

"Now, Missy," warns her husband, reaching out to cover her mouth before she can divulge the love name she uses for Jerry in private.

"Oh, relax," she scolds, waving her hand dismissively and letting out a surprisingly girlish giggle. "I'm sure these city folks have heard a lot worse than anything we could come up with," she tells her husband, giving him a saucy wink.

Kate laughs nervously and gives Castle a quick glance. She finds him watching her when she looks round, a soft look in his eyes.

"How did you two meet?" asks Jerry, adding, "And don't think I'm prying. I'm just asking before Missy gets her chance. I tell ya, she could have worked for the FBI this one," he says proudly, and Kate chokes on the water she was sipping, requiring Castle to pat her on the back.

"That's kind of a funny story actually," replies Castle, taking a swig of red wine and leaning back in his chair, enjoying the build up to a good tale as he does.

"Castle, I'm sure the Hudsons don't really want to hear—" Kate begins to say, wanting to keep their lies to a minimum, but she is quickly interrupted by Jerry.

"Nonsense. We'd love to hear all about it," he reassures them both.

"You're sure?" asks Kate, wrinkling her brow.

"Honey, Jerry was in the army for over twenty years," explains Missy. "So we moved around a lot. I raised our kids by myself most of the time, and there were days and nights I barely stopped crying for missing him," she confesses, covering her husband's hand with her own and giving it a squeeze. "But we got through it, cause that's what you do when you love someone, right?"

The wisdom and truth in this remark isn't lost on Kate, and when she risks a glance at Castle she sees that it has registered with him too. It's almost like seeing themselves through the lens of someone else's life - listening to these two strangers share glimpses of their own past.

* * *

"_Anyhoo_, one of the ways I had of coping when he was gone was to read. I read and I read, every piece of fiction I could get my hands on. Heck, I'd sit up until two or three o'clock sometimes when I was deep in the grip of a story. My babies would find me with the bedside lamp still on at seven the next morning, my cheek stuck to the pages of that book," she laughs, giving her husband a slightly guilty look.

"Do you have children, Kate?" she asks, giving her a bright smile.

Kate shakes her head. Her lips sealed tightly together until she forces the corners upwards. She hopes her eyes are cooperating with the smile she's attempting.

"No…eh…no, I don't. But Castle has a daughter," she offers, brightening up, as if this is somehow a better answer. "She is so…smart and grown up and…yeah," she nods, turning her forced smile on Castle now for backup.

"Well, stepfamilies can be just as rewarding," replies Missy, politely.

Clearly sensing something in the air around this particular topic, she moves back to safer ground.

"Anyway, my reading habit stuck," she tells them, backtracking a little.

"She can get through a couple of novels a week, this one," Jerry tells Castle, proudly. "Real big ones too," he adds for effect, his eyes widening along with a visual demonstration he provides with his hands, as if the quality of literature is measured by the yard.

"So, to have one of my favorite authors sitting in my dining room telling me his life story…" she shakes her head, as if this is a dream come true, and Kate feels the early onset of indigestion.

She rises from the table and everyone turns to look at her.

"I—you carry on with the story," she tells Castle, raising her eyebrows at him in a way that she hope signifies that he has her blessing to say whatever he wants. "You tell it better. I'll just…start clearing these plates," she offers, insisting when Missy tries to get her to sit. "We were in the car a long time today. I could really do with stretching my legs."

* * *

Kate carries a small stack of dirty dishes into the kitchen, which is quaint and pretty and full of little personal touches that indicate a life well led, full of family and love. There are a couple of decades worth of memories in that room alone. She admires the couple's children – photographs attached to the refrigerator door with novelty magnets, along with framed school and vacation photographs mounted on the walls.

Castle's deep voice drifts through her daydreaming to stir her back to the here and now, accompanied by his laughter, as he gives these lovely people whatever version of their own story he's decided to present to them tonight.

She finds herself sidling back into the small adjoining space beneath the stairs to listen to him talk about them and their life together as he views it or wishes it to be or maybe a little of both.

"But it's true," she hears him insisting to the Hudsons, who're laughing uproariously, "she _actually_ arrested me not long after we met. In fact, the _first_ time we met, I thought she was going to slap the cuffs on my wrists right there in front of my own daughter."

She thinks she maybe hears him whisper something about bondage, and she winces when the Missy Hudson lets out a peel of raucous laughter, seeming to confirm her suspicions.

For the most part, Kate can't hear the questions the Hudsons ask him, but every time Castle picks up the thread she feels his voice resonate in the center of her chest like a struck bell jar. It's a phantom sensation, but as real to her as any touch, caress or the actual vibration of his voice against her sternum would be. She shivers at the memory of his touch, wanting to feel it so badly.

"I think she hated me at first…well, she pretended to anyway. But I hung in there, wore her down," Kate overhears him crowing, and she smiles helplessly at his cockiness. "Not that she could have withstood my charm for long, but I'm friends with the Mayor, you see, so he got me the gig at the Twelfth where Kate is stationed. And she is one breathtaking vision to behold when she's in full flow," she hears Castle tell them, his voice returning to a much more serious tone.

This time there are no interruptions, just two people listening with rapt attention to the writer as he spins his yarn.

"To watch her reel a perp in to confessing once she has him in interrogation…I tell you there is no finer sight. The job she does…in fact, it's _way_ more than a job. You'll understand that, Sir," she hears Castle say, referring to Jerry Hudson's military service. "She _honors_ these victims every day, speaks for them when they have been robbed of their voices by any manner of evildoing. And she brings comfort to the families that are left behind. It has been such a privilege to work alongside her these last five years."

"And your reward was the Nikki Heat series, of course," offers Missy, brightly.

"I tell you, I would have followed that woman into hell for no reward at all. We have seen some bad things and faced some terrifying situations over the years. Life threatening, life _altering_…the kind of thing you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. But I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

"You clearly love your wife, Mr. Castle," observes Jerry, and Kate has to cover her mouth with her hand to stop from making a sound as she listens for Castle's reply.

"Call me Rick, please, both of you. And yes, I do love Kate. I love her very much," replies Castle, clearing his throat. "We've had some difficult times. But then I guess all couples have those."

"It's how you get through them that counts," says Jerry sagely.

"I find _together_ is best," laughs Missy, her mirth lightening the heavy moment, the tinkle of her easy laughter a well-earned sound after years spent figuring out the hard stuff for her own family largely by herself.

* * *

Suddenly, Kate hears the legs of a chair scrape backwards across the wooden floor and then footsteps heading in her direction, so she dashes to the kitchen sink and turns the faucet on to let the water run hot.

"I wasn't sure if you used a dishwasher or…" she blurts, trying to cover her tracks in front of Missy, when the hostess rounds the corner into the kitchen carrying a few of the serving dishes containing their leftovers.

"Honey, I couldn't run this place without it," she tells Kate, who wants to smack her own forehead for such a lame remark.

The Hudsons run an Inn, of course they would have a dishwasher.

"But add a squirt of Dawn to that washing up bowl. I'll do the wine glasses by hand."

"Please, let me," insists Kate, still feeling guilty about deceiving such lovely, open people.

"Honey, you're a guest," protests Missy.

"Then let me dry at least?"

"There's a fresh kitchen towel in that drawer over there," Missy tells Kate, sensing she wants to linger out here in the kitchen for some reason.

The two women chat about the local area, the sights she and Castle might like to visit tomorrow, and about how the Hudsons came to settle in Luray after Jerry retired from the army. Eventually they fall into a brief, comfortable silence.

"You know, Kate, I couldn't help but notice that you couldn't take your eyes off that gorgeous engagement ring of yours over dinner," she says, smiling so genuinely that Kate feels her gut spasm. "Is there a story behind that too?" she asks, gently, giving Kate all the leeway in the world to keep whatever it is as private as she wishes.

Kate sets down the glass she was polishing and then she folds her arms over her stomach protectively, the damp terry cloth kitchen towel dangling from one of her hands. The towel is printed with a quote about friendship by the American author, poet and philosopher, Henry David Thoreau that reads:

'_The language of friendship is not words but meanings.'_

Kate sighs and frowns and then she tucks a curl behind her ear, finally looking Missy Hudson square in the face.

"I'm so sorry," she says, giving the kindly woman a wan smile, tears rising to bead the rims of her eyes. "You and Jerry have been so lovely, and we've rewarded your kindness and your openness with a lie."

* * *

Missy doesn't interrupt, she just takes the towel from Kate's hand and leads her over to the small breakfast nook by the window.

Both women sit down facing one another. Kate rests her elbows on the table, immediately slumping forward a little over the wooden surface with exhaustion. She traces her fingertips over the grain of the old table, while rubbing the back of her neck with her other hand as she tries to find the right words to explain the mess their situation has become to this genuine, kind-hearted individual.

"Honey, your life is _your_ business," Missy assures Kate, not wanting to put her through something that is evidently difficult and so personal.

But Kate sits up at this point, squaring her shoulders to address the woman sitting opposite her.

"No. No, I want to tell you. It's…it's stupid really. It started out as a misunderstanding and then it got out of hand. When we arrived here today, your husband quite naturally assumed that we were married, and Rick, he…" she sighs again, smiling over at Missy. "I heard him tell you that we've had some difficulties. Well, we're kind of in the middle of something right now. It's…complicated. Short version - I took a new job, left New York for three months, cut off contact. I…leaving was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

"So...then you're not married?" asks Missy, and Kate slowly shakes her head.

"Rick proposed right before I accepted the job in DC. I left without giving him an answer."

"And the ring?"

Kate looks down at her left hand, stretching her fingers out, tilting it from side to side to watch the spectacular diamonds sparkle once more in the homely setting of the Hudson's kitchen.

"He insisted that the ring was mine, so I took it with me. But I had never even put it on my finger until he brought it out tonight and suggested that I wear it since…"

"Since you were playing the role of husband and wife?"

Kate nods, her cheeks coloring in embarrassment.

"Well, I must say, you make a very convincing married couple. Honeymooners even. That man is clearly in love with you."

"I love him too," confirms Kate, unsure why this woman inspires her to such openness. "That's what this trip is all about – it's supposed to be our second chance, a fresh start, time away from everything that complicates our life to see if we can make a go of things. Find each other again."

"Is that what you want?" asks Missy, her voice so kindly and sympathetic.

"More than anything. But building back trust…?" Kate shakes her head. "That's going to take time."

"Kate, marriages aren't forged in the heat of the wedding day and the period of bliss that comes after. They're fashioned and formed over time. Time is the one thing that a marriage should have in abundance if it's a strong and lasting one. So don't worry about that, my dear."

"Right now I worry that I'm already too late. That the effort I'm making to repair the damage I've done is…"

"What?" asks Missy, covering one of Kate's hands with her own.

"Too little too late."

"Nonsense," says the Innkeeper. "Kate, I've only just met you both, but it's as plain as the nose on your face that Richard Castle loves the bones of you. And I'm sure that if you asked my macho, unromantic soldier of a husband, he'd tell you the same thing. We see a lot of couples pass through our home, Kate, but rarely do we see two people as right for each other as you are."

"I hope you're right," sighs Kate, as footsteps pound in the direction of the kitchen.

* * *

"Ah, there you are," booms Castle, just as Kate manages to straighten up on the hard bench seat, hastily wiping a tear from her cheek.

"Jerry would like to know if the wives would like to join their husbands in the living room for a little brandy…assuming all the work is done in here of course," jokes Castle, watching his little sexist quip fall flat.

"What?" he asks, looking from Kate to Missy and back.

"Castle, she knows," sighs Kate, pursing her lips.

"Knows?" he grins, a little nervously. "Knows what?"

"It's…it's over. Okay. Please just drop the pretense," she tells him, rising from the table. "I told Missy everything - that we lied about being married."

Kate turns to Missy and begins to tell her: "I am so sorry. Look, we will pack our things and—"

"You will do no such thing," interjects Missy, before Kate can apologize again and flee the room.

"_So_, do I have the ladies' permission to break out the good stuff, Rick, or what?" hollers Jerry Hudson, coming down the hallway to join the party in the kitchen.

He slaps Castle on the back and gives Kate and Missy his best, jolly smile, before quickly surveying the somber, awkward scene and realizing that brandy might be exactly what is called for tonight.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	9. Chapter 9 - Sharing The Blame

_**Chapter 9 – Sharing The Blame**_

"It was a bad idea. I _knew_ it was a bad idea," Kate chides herself, as she paces the bedroom floor. "I never should have gone along with it. And I _know_ that I am equally at fault here, Castle. I…I'm not blaming you. So please don't think that I am," says Kate, moving from the bed to the small, floral paneled bedroom closet to hang up her clothes, before heading into the large en suite to remove her make-up and brush her teeth.

Castle sits wordlessly on the bed, still wearing his jeans and black sweater, his head in his hands, shoes discarded somewhere over near the door.

He was having fun tonight. They both were. It felt normal, comfortable, safe, familiar even. He enjoyed sharing with the Hudsons how they met, stories about working together, his pride in Kate and the difficult job that she does so well, without any of the darkness and the trauma they've been through lately infecting any of it. There were no pitying glances, no wary watchful eyes on him. He got to be his old self again – the successful, famous, New York mystery writer - Tyson be damned.

So he kept back some minor details and a few ugly truths. He wasn't lying when he told them how special Kate is or how much he loves her.

And Kate - she looked stunning at that table, wearing his ring, laughing and conversing with those people as if they were family. Seeing her through those strangers eyes, explaining what they meant to each other - it's as if he's peeling the onion all over again. Only this time he knows the value of what lies inside if he has the patience and the faith to stay with it, to wait it out and put in a little hard work of his own to get beyond the hurt he's still feeling and to see the effort Kate is putting in to change. Her desire to be open with these complete strangers is evidence enough, if he needed any more, that she's forcing herself to do what's best for them for once, that's she's through with lying and hiding and that she's trying to let him in.

What man would not be proud to call Kate Beckett his wife?

He just didn't want the fantasy to end, he realizes, with a crushing wave of disappointment.

* * *

"_Why?_" is all he asks, when Kate comes back out of the bathroom rubbing lotion into her hands and arms, a pale grey sleep shirt falling loosely to mid-thigh, her hair twisted into a tight little bun.

"Why what?" she asks, distractedly, unfastening her dad's watch to place it on the nightstand.

"Everything was going so well. We…we were pulling it off, Kate. We were having fun down there. Why did you have to tell her it was a lie?" he asks, his voice rising steadily, though she can tell there's more hurt and disappointment than anger behind his raised tone.

"Are you _listening_ to yourself?" she asks, staring at him, her bare toes curling against the floral rug at her feet. "We were _pulling it off_? Castle, these are _good people_ in case you hadn't noticed. And we were deliberately deceiving them."

"Did it feel like a deception to you?" he challenges, looking her straight in the eye until she becomes flustered and has to look away.

"No," she agrees, quietly, dragging her gaze back up from the floor to meet his again. "No, of course it didn't."

"Then why, Kate? Why ruin it?"

"Missy asked me about the ring. Castle, she caught me staring at it during dinner. She didn't even press me on it. Just flat out asked if there was a story there too. And I thought about what you might say, you know. What you might have come up with. Like maybe I lost my ring at work and you bought me a new one…something…" she shrugs, shaking her head, sweeping a tear off her cheek. "But I just couldn't lie to her face. I'm sorry."

Castle gets up off the bed and comes over to her, tentatively opening his arms to offer her a hug. He doesn't move any closer, just leaves his embrace open for her to step into if she wishes, which she eventually does.

Kate feels Castle's breath release, warm air shooting down her neck, his chest deflating, creating more room for her as soon as his arms tighten around her body.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "I got us into this mess and I'm blaming you. Kate, I'm sorry," he whispers again, binding her more tightly to him when she relaxes in his arms.

"It's okay. We were equally at fault this time. Lucky the Hudsons are big on forgiveness," she tells him, rubbing her cheek across the soft cashmere covering his chest.

Castle strokes his fingers up and down her spine, while he rests his chin on top of her head, tucking her into the safe hollow his body always makes so easily to accommodate hers.

* * *

"So I checked with Jerry," says Castle, hesitantly, after a moment or two's silence. "We can stay on if we want. They have a vacancy."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" asks Kate, pulling back to look up at his face. "After today, I'm pretty mortified."

"If they can get over our lie, I'm sure we should be able to get over our embarrassment. It's not as if we were never a couple, it's not as if that wasn't _your_ engagement ring, Kate. So we fudged the part about being married," he shrugs. "At least I didn't sit at their dinner table spinning them a tall tale about our wedding day. The white doves, the stately home in the Highlands of Scotland, the owl that bound our wrists together with a red satin ribbon, the—"

"Okay, just hold it right there, Harry Potter," says Kate, pushing both hands against Castle's chest to get him to stop talking and so that she can lean back far enough to see his face again. "Owls, doves? What the hell, Castle? Is that what you were planning while I was in DC, because I'm pretty sure—"

Kate is half-joking, big, elaborate weddings never having being her style, but Castle takes her remarks very seriously.

"You think I was planning _our wedding_ when you were off in Washington doing God knows what? I already told you I was treading water, Kate. I didn't know if I would ever _see you_ again, let alone get a second chance with you."

"Castle, I…I'm sorry. You just seemed to have a lot of disturbing ideas pretty well thought out there."

"I'm a fiction writer, Kate. It's what I do. I make stuff up."

"Right," she nods, giving him a contrite smile. "I don't know why your imagination still takes me by surprise sometimes, but it does. And the second chance thing? It's _me_ who's been granted a second chance by _you_. Not the other way around. You didn't do anything wrong, for the record."

"Good to know," he replies quietly, adding, "Can I get that in writing for next time when I do do something wrong?"

He grins at her, breaking the tension, and she smiles back hopelessly, squirming when he wraps his arms around her loosely once more and draws her back against him. His body feels firm and warm and safe.

"How about you just don't do anything wrong?" she suggests, lightly pressing her lips to the patch of bare skin his sweater has left exposed beneath his throat. "That would make a refreshing change," she tells him, eyes crinkling at the sides when she smiles up at him.

"Nah, too boring," replies Castle, after a dramatic pause to consider her suggestion, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose, making Kate laugh.

"So? Can we stay?" he wheedles, climbing the back of her ribcage with his fingertips at if it is a tiny ladder.

"Do I have a choice?"

"We always have choices, Kate. It's what we make of them that counts," he tells her, with mock-solemnity.

"How did you get so wise all of a sudden?"

"Hey, I've always offered you wise counsel. It's one of the things you relied on when we worked together, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. _That_ and the crazy-assed theories," laughs Kate, playfully smacking him in the shoulder.

"So does that mean we can stay?"

"Why don't we wait and see the lay of the land at breakfast? They may have had a change of heart overnight."

"Kate, they're running a business first and foremost. I'm sure they don't like or get along with every couple who comes through that front door. If they can offer us this room for the next few days, things are obviously a little slow. We owe them, and the best way to repay their kindness is by giving them cold hard cash, I'm afraid."

"And complete honesty from now on."

"Yes, that too. So do we have a deal?"

"You've got your eye on that Jacuzzi, haven't you?" smirks Kate, attempting to pull away from him.

"Kate," he growls, catching her by the lapels of her sleep shirt and reeling her back in.

When she thuds up against him they both startle, both swallowing hard, their eyes lit with fear. Kate's hands are plastered flat against Castle's chest, vainly trying to keep a modicum of distance between them because it's too soon, and, oh God, long overdue. Kate's heart is racing. But he's hurt, traumatized, and he asked for time and she promised herself she'd give it to him.

"I…uh…you might want to get ready for bed," Kate says, patting his chest platonically. "If we're going to explore Shenandoah Valley tomorrow we should probably make an early start," she rushes out awkwardly, knitting her brow into a frown as soon as the words are out there hanging between them, like one of Ryan and Espo's clumsy interruptions.

"Yeah," nods Castle, clearing his throat gruffly, as he lets her go and the moment passes, the regret clear in his eyes and in the deep sigh he lets out. "Yeah, you're probably right. Jerry reckons the leaf peepers will be out in force along Skyline Drive by now."

"Colors should be pretty spectacular with all the dry, sunny weather they've been having," rambles Kate, already busying herself by removing the ornamental quilt from the surface of the bed.

* * *

While Castle slinks off into the bathroom, Kate folds up the quilt and places it on top of the velvet ottoman that sits at the foot of the four-poster. She trails back round to her own side, pausing in the warm, yellow glow of the bedside lamp to admire the ring still adorning her fourth finger.

She lifts an extra pillow off the sumptuous pile that is propped up against the headboard and she hauls it against her face, and then she screams into the thick, heavy wad of cotton covered down, while the faucet runs hard and loud in the en suite bathroom.

When she's finished screaming in frustration she drops the pillow back down onto the bed and she punches it hard with her right fist. She feels exhausted, but finally spent enough to settle down for the night. Doing the honorable thing is torture, and she realizes that she's getting a first hand glimpse of what Castle must have gone through all those years ago when he held back from burdening her or scaring her or smothering her with his own feelings when he could see that she wasn't ready to hear that he was in love with her.

Before Castle can reappear, she quickly digs the black velvet ring box out of his suitcase, eases the engagement ring off her finger and carefully places it back in the box. She admires the stunning array of diamonds for a few further seconds with the platinum band safely ensconced in its velvet slot, before she snaps the lid closed and deposits the ring box on Castle's nightstand.

* * *

Kate is curled up on her side, fast asleep, by the time Castle reemerges from the steamy bathroom to find the ring box sitting by itself on his side of the bed. The note she hastily scribbled on a sheet of the Inn's headed notepaper sits beneath the box, and he finds it when he picks the jewelry box up to store it in the in-room safe for safekeeping overnight.

Her short message reads:

_'Let me earn it. Please, Rick? Love, Kate xx'_

* * *

_Thoughts? Have a lovely weekend all, Liv x_


	10. Chapter 10 - A Furry Friend

_**Chapter 10 – A Furry Friend**_

The next morning, Kate wakes first. Or at least she thinks she does. There's the familiar sound of even breathing, usually the biggest clue that Castle is still slumbering peacefully beside her. But when she gingerly slides out of bed to use the bathroom, something warm and fluffy connects with her foot and then a high-pitched whimper issues from somewhere close to the ground.

"Oh, my _God!_" she exclaims, sitting back down heavily on the mattress.

She just stood on the tail of a dog - a large, golden, fluffy dog - who is lying on the floor beside their bed for some reason, sleeping. Or at least he was, until she trampled him.

"Castle," she hisses, patting the covers behind her to waken him, while she and the Golden Retriever carry on a staring contest.

"Rick?" she whispers, finally turning around to find the bed empty behind her, the covers thrown back.

She's startled out of her puzzlement when she feels a cold, wet nose and a soft pink tongue nudging and licking at the back of her hand.

"Hey, there," she grins, dropping to the floor, kneeling down to doggie level to pat the large, friendly Retriever. "What's your name and where on earth did you come from, huh?"

The dog is wearing a red leather collar, and when Kate locates the brass tag attached to the underside, she reads the name: _'Tammy'_. The address of the Inn is inscribed on the reverse side along with the Hudson's telephone number.

"So you're a girl!" she grins, scratching the dog behind her ears. "Good. I was beginning to feel outnumbered. Now, where's my partner, Tammy? Do you know, girl?" she asks the dog, patting her on the head before going over to check the closet.

Castle's outdoor jacket and heavy boots are missing. The striped scarf she packed for him is also gone. She hopes there is nothing wrong, and she's on the point of going to look out of the bedroom window to make sure that their rental car is still there, when she hears Castle's voice drifting up from somewhere out in the front yard.

* * *

When Kate draws back the lace curtains and looks down into the garden below, she finds him sitting in a white-painted Adirondack all bundled up, cradling a large mug of coffee in both hands as he chews the fat with Jerry Hudson.

She shakes her head and smiles at the scene. The two men are laughing at something, and then Castle points to a squirrel which is trying to get at the Hudson's squirrel-proof bird feeder; the furry creature dangling precariously off a mesh covered cylinder of suet dough, his tail twitching back and forth as he fights to hang on.

"Well, it looks like _he's_ having a good time," says Kate out loud, when Tammy bumps her nose against the back of her knees. "So I'd better get in the shower or there will be no fall color left for us to see today," she tells the dog, before adding, "Why am I talking to a dog?"

"Don't worry. I do it all the time," says a female voice, and Kate startles, turning round to stare down at the dog, who is now sitting mute at her feet, big brown eyes watching her carefully.

"Over here," says Missy, her head barely popped around the bedroom door, as she gently raps on the doorjamb with her knuckles. "I hope you don't mind, but I heard your voice. I just wanted to check if you'd like some coffee. Rick mentioned that it was one of your few vices, so…" she thrusts the hand carrying the mug of steaming black gold around the door.

"Hey, come in. Thank you. Sorry, I'm…" she looks down at her nightshirt and bare feet, "…must have slept in."

"No, it's only eight. You're fine. I caught Rick wandering around down in the kitchen about half past six this morning when I got up to bring the milk in. Is he always such an early riser?"

Kate laughs, having to steady the mug as she hastily brings it away from her mouth.

"_Castle?_ No. No, it usually takes a stick of dynamite to wake him in the morning. That or a body drop at work. Mystery writer, go figure," shrugs Kate. "He was downstairs at six-thirty?"

"Yeah, not exactly dressed or compos mentis. But he was there alright, trying to figure out my ancient coffeemaker by the looks of it."

"I didn't even hear him get up."

"Country has a way of knocking you out. We used to sleep late all the time when we first moved out here. My city guests tell me it's the clean air."

"Mm," murmurs Kate, wandering back over to the window with Tammy hot on her heels, the mug of strong, dark coffee cradled to her chest.

* * *

"Looks like you made a friend," observes Missy, pointing to the dog.

"Yeah," grins Kate, looking down at the obviously sociable animal. "Is she yours?"

"Yes. She was staying over at Jerry's sister's place last night. Her husband was away for a few days and she hates to be on her own. They live on a farm out by the boundary line of the Shenandoah National Park."

"Are you a good guard dog, Tammy? Are you, girl?" asks Kate, dropping her hand to rub the dog's back.

Tammy pants, her pink tongue dangling out of her mouth as if she is smiling at Kate.

"She's a big old softy, is what she is," says Missy. "But she can make some noise if needs be. Helen feels better having her around nights she's out there by herself and they have plenty of space for her to run around."

"Okay, well, I will leave you to get dressed," says Missy, patting her thigh to call Tammy back to her side.

The Golden Retriever drops to the floor over by Kate's feet and then plops her chin onto her paws, her mouth stretched into a wide grin that she aims at her mom, big brown eyes soft and mournful.

"Oh, do not give me that look, Tammy Girl," scolds Missy, though she can't help smiling too. "Kate doesn't want you getting under her feet while she gets ready. Come on. Come now," she instructs the dog, patting both knees this time to call her over.

"Missy, it's fine. Honestly, if she wants to stay up here while I potter, I don't mind."

"Well, if you're sure," says Missy, a little doubtfully. "If you could just make sure she stays off the bed. That's my one rule. No dogs on beds. Some of my guests are allergic, so we mostly keep her outside when they come."

"No problem. I'll be right down and I'll bring her with me."

"Great. I'll have breakfast waiting. I think the boys want to eat theirs outside. I'm none to keen on getting a chill, so I'll leave them to it," laughs Missy, shaking her head.

"Thank you," calls out Kate, just before Missy closes the bedroom door.

"Whatever for?" she asks, popping her head back into the room.

"For the coffee…and for being kind enough to forgive our stupidity."

"Nonsense. The way I see it, you were both just time-travelling a little. Maybe even wishful thinking?" she teases gently. "Am I right?"

"Yes," admits Kate, giving Missy a slightly bashful smile. "But it's complicated."

"Well, complicated or not, that marriage of yours is on the cards. It's on the road right up ahead, Kate. So, just hang in there a little longer and you'll be wearing that ring on your finger for real. Come down when you're ready," she adds, with a departing wave.

* * *

Kate hurries through her morning routine, keen to catch up with Castle. After falling asleep last night before he even made it into bed, she's not sure how things rest between them. She found the note that she left for him folded in half and poking out of the top of the book he's reading, marking the page he ended on. She's grateful she didn't find it in the trash torn into tiny pieces. That he saved it is a positive sign, she hopes.

She dons a charcoal turtleneck, dark jeans, flat, ridge-soled biker boots and grabs her fur-trimmed parka out of the closet to take downstairs with her.

Tammy is waiting patiently by the window, lying on the floor in a patch of warm sunlight, watching her move efficiently around the bedroom.

Kate throws the covers all the way back to air their bed. She touches her fingertips into the deep hollow where Castle's head made a dent in the pillow while he slept. She hopes today is a better day for them; that they can have fun and forget all about the ugliness that's dogged them recently. She can see that that's why he was so upset last night when they came upstairs. It wasn't about being caught in a lie, it was about the charade of their phantom marriage coming to an end – a role he was clearly enjoying playing. This realization gives her hope that he is getting mentally stronger and that there is indeed a future for them if she just keeps reassuring and proving to him that this is exactly what she wants, and she intends to do just that, along with regaining his trust.

* * *

Down in the kitchen, the smell of sizzling bacon, rich coffee and hot toast is dizzying. But before they sit down to eat, Missy shows Kate where to find Tammy's leash, and she attaches the red braided rope to the dog's collar to prevent her chasing after the squirrels that seem to be out in abundance this morning, before heading out into the yard.

"I'll round them up, don't worry," says Kate, giving Missy a wave, before disappearing out through the door at the rear of the house.

She wants to surprise Castle, to get a chance to observe him hanging out with Jerry before he sees her. But Tammy evidently has other ideas.

As Kate strides around the side of the house with the dog by her side, the Golden Retriever suddenly lunges after a frolicking squirrel, tugging Kate forwards with her. Thankfully she has a firm grip on the leash, but it pulls her out into the open space of the front yard before she gets any opportunity to watch Castle and Jerry together.

"Morning!" hollers Jerry, from his spot on the front porch, where he's busy brushing away the leaves that have fallen overnight.

"Morning, Jerry!" Kate calls back, giving him a wave, Tammy's leash tightly wound around her other fist.

Castle is still sitting in the Adirondack on the grass near the Hudson's white picket fence, the local newspaper folded in his lap, his face turned up to the sun, eyes closed. The suburban scene would be a cheesy cliché if it weren't so pretty. He spins around at the sound of her voice, dropping the newspaper onto the grass with a rustle. And he startles, doing a quick double take, when he sees her speeding towards him with this beautiful, golden-haired dog under her control.

Or almost under her control.

* * *

"Hey," she says, giving him a warm smile, as Tammy tugs her right to his feet.

"Hey, yourself," replies Castle, setting his empty mug down by on the grass to pet the dog, who is now sniffing at his boots and thumping her tail loudly off the side of the wooden chair.

"Sorry I slept in," she tells him, bending down to retrieve the newspaper from the grass before it can get damp or blow away. She takes a deep breath before adding, "I missed you this morning."

Castle looks surprised to hear her say that, but he recovers well enough.

"I—sorry. I woke early. Didn't want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful."

"Creepy staring again?" teases Kate, arching one eyebrow, falling back on this game that they play so well.

She catches Castle's eye and joins him in a smile that is just slightly painted with shyness on both their parts.

"Missy said she found you in the kitchen trying to figure out their coffee machine," laughs Kate, sitting down in the chair beside him. "And you weren't even dressed!"

"Yeah, busted!" he laughs, rasping one hand over his unshaven jaw. "Nothing stays a secret around here for long," he adds, pointedly, giving her a quick sideways glance.

"Castle, about last night…" Kate begins to say, swiveling her knees towards him to begin apologizing or to explain.

"Hey, it's fine. You were right to come clean, Kate. I don't know what I was thinking. When we do all of that for real, I want it to be right… Honest and…and a lot more heartfelt than it came out last time," he tells her, stunning her with his honesty and the fact that he has clearly thought things through since last night.

"Good. Good, I'd like that," she tells him, quietly, toying with the braided leash in her hand.

* * *

"Who's your friend?" asks Castle, changing the subject to look down at the golden retriever, who is now lying at Kate's feet, her chin propped up on the toe of one of her black boots.

"This is Tammy," says Kate, leaning down to tickle the dog behind her right ear. "She was on a sleepover at her Aunt Helen's house last night. Weren't you, girl?" coos Kate, running her hand down the dog's back and then shaking her body from side-to-side.

"She likes you," grins Castle, watching her pet the dog, pleased to see how relaxed she looks this morning.

"We girls gotta stick together. Right, Tammy?"

The dog's ears prick up at the sound of her own name and she raises her chin, smiling at Kate again, her pink tongue lolling out between her teeth as she pants, her warm breath misting the early morning air.

They sit quietly side-by-side for a couple of minutes, eyes closed and faces turned up towards the surprisingly warm sun.

"I really needed this," murmurs Castle, without opening his eyes. "Didn't know how much, but I did…I do," he corrects, his fingers lightly wrapped around the wooden arms of the chair. "Thank you."

Kate opens her eyes at his words of thanks and turns to look at him. He's still sunning himself, the muscles of his face slack and relaxed, the tension he's been carrying since she found him in New York almost gone. Only smudged dark circles linger beneath the hollow of each eye.

"I think we both needed a timeout," replies Kate, closing her own eyes again.

"We have to do more of this."

"Sit outdoors on damp grass before we've even had breakfast?" jokes Kate.

"Take time for ourselves, get a better balance between work and our personal lives. Realize what's important."

"Mm," Kate hums her agreement, taking a deep breath to fill her lungs with fresh air, enjoying Castle's allusion towards a future they will share, until he rocks her with his next words.

"We both could have died back in New York," he says, and Kate sits bolt upright this time, or as upright as an Adirondack chair will allow, when she realizes this is more of a serious discussion than she bargained for.

"Castle…" she sighs, covering his hand where it lies peacefully on top of the arm of his own chair, "…you can't think like that. You know that. You'll drive yourself crazy."

"I know. But sometimes…" he shakes his head. "The potential was there, Kate, the threat…all the time. When I was alone with him, I was so tempted just to rush him every time he let his guard down for a second or when he mocked me or taunted me about you… About how he was going to lure you back there and hurt you."

This torrent of fear and recovered memory is a surprise to Kate, not at all what she was expecting to hear this morning out in this blissful, sleepy yard with a dog nestled at their feet. However, she manages to cover her surprise well.

"But you used your head, you made good choices and you survived," she points out.

"Only because I knew you'd kick my ass if I did anything stupid," he replies, valiantly trying to make light of a situation that is clearly still haunting him.

Kate laughs at that, but it comes choking out of her throat as a half-formed sob.

"Sorry, I'm kind of bumming the mood," apologizes Castle.

"No. No, it's important that we talk about this stuff," argues Kate, thinking that the worst has passed if he's making jokes already.

But there's more.

* * *

"I wanted to see you again," he confesses, into a pool of dead air, the impact of his words spreading like ripples on the surface of a pond.

"You…? I don't understand."

"I wasn't smart or…or making good choices, Kate. He kept saying you were coming, that he was leaving a breadcrumb trail for you… I was stupid and selfish. I could have ended it, taken him down…"

"Or gotten yourself killed! Castle, we both know what Tyson was capable of."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point? Explain it to me."

"I'm trying to confess here, Kate. I sat there chained to that radiator day after day, played the good captive, took everything he threw at me because I _wanted_ you to come. I wanted to see you so badly that I put you in danger. Everything he put you through…it's _on me_, it was _my_ fault. _Mine!_" he says, with deep agitation.

Birds tweet, a squirrel rattles the feeder and it squeaks as it swings back and forth on its stand, a truck drives down the street by the front of the Inn and leaves drop from the trees, drifting to the ground where they settle with a dry, crackling whisper. The breeze picks up and more dead leaves as big as men's hands tumble across the brick path to pile up along the picket fence.

Kate finally breaks the silence between them by clearing her throat.

* * *

"So…Missy has breakfast waiting for us inside, if you're ready to go in?" she suggests, no longer looking at Castle anymore.

"_Kate?_" he croaks, when she withdraws her hand from his own and reaches down to pat the dog. "Say something, please?"

"Is that why you were haunting the Hudson's kitchen at six-thirty this morning?" she asks him, staring straight ahead.

"We agreed no more secrets. And you've been fighting so hard to make up for your own choices. I couldn't let you go on thinking that you were to blame. I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you. I'm sorry I'm such a selfish coward."

"Okay, you need to _stop_ this pity party right now," Kate says, fiercely. "Tyson was a law unto himself. He planned all of this. We were pawns, Castle, both of us. He had terminal cancer and _nothing_ to lose. Do you think he wouldn't have gone down fighting?"

"At least I would have tried…something…"

"And left me," she gasps out, biting her lip until she can carry on, tears beading her lashes. "Left me hating myself for the rest of my life," she whispers, hoarsely. "_Blaming_ myself, Castle. Left Alexis without her dad, Martha to bury her only son. No. No, you did the right thing. We both did," she tells him, with absolute conviction.

"But I did nothing. _Nothing!_ What kind of man does that make me?" he growls.

"A smart one. Because we got through it and now we're here, trying to put ourselves back together again. I love you," she tells him, adamantly, putting as much feeling behind these words as she can. "And I was alone in DC thinking I'd killed what we had. So to hear that you actually wanted to see me again…I could never hate you for that or…or resent you. What you did at my old apartment, that's just about the smartest thing you've ever done."

"But I lured you there as sure as he did. How can you say that?"

"How can I say that? Because I could have taken my chance with him too. I watched him drug you, Rick, aim a crossbow at your head. I let him make you believe that he was going to rape me. Because the alternative was worse. There's a time to play the hero, and that wasn't it. I wanted us to walk out of there alive. More than anything. And I think you did too."

"I'm just not sure the end always justifies the means," argues Castle, the fight drained out of him.

"Maybe not. But in this case it does. There's no doubt in my mind."

* * *

Kate falls silent again, lets the last words of their exchange swirl around her mind until her thoughts settle.

"I'm glad you told me," she finally tells him. "Promise you'll keep talking to me. I need to hear the dark stuff, Castle, as much as I need the fun stuff. We have to help each other through this."

"Promise," he says, giving her what passes for a slight smile.

"Right. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty hungry, and Missy's pancakes look as if they could give yours a run for their money," she teases, watching Castle's frown even out and his hands relax in his lap.

"She doesn't need walked?" he asks, watching the dog stand up in front of them and stretch, as if she is ready to go back inside too.

"Actually, I was thinking maybe we could take her with us today, if the Hudsons are okay with it. Give her a nice long run out in the National Park? What do you think?"

Castle thinks it's an excellent idea. Just seeing Kate with Tammy reminds him of the few blissful days they shared Royal - the homeless dog they co-parented for an all too brief period, before they were even dating. The dog brings back happy memories. Maybe they can make new ones today with the help of Tammy.

"Let's ask them," he says, standing up stiffly.

"You sure you're up for this?" asks Kate, eyeing him with concern, as he stretches his back after sitting too long on the hard wooden chair, out on damp grass, in the early morning air, even if he does have a heavy jacket on.

"Yip. Never better," he lies, pulling it together to give her a wink, before he turns to follow her across the yard.

"I suppose there's always the Jacuzzi when we get back," Kate boldly throws over her shoulder, returning his wink, as she strides towards the house with Tammy dancing ahead of her, refusing to let them backslide from the progress they've begun to make.

* * *

_Thoughts? Hope everyone is having a great weekend, Liv x_


	11. Chapter 11 - The Appalachian Trail

_A/N: Sorry this took so long to update. Families, real and imagined, got in the way! _

_It might be worth re-reading the last chapter if you want to remind yourself of where they are or... _

_**Cliff Notes**: Castle & Beckett are staying at an Inn in the small Virginian town of Luray, trying to repair their relationship. Castle has just confessed that he feels guilty that he helped lure Kate to Tyson because he didn't fight back, all because he really wanted to see her again. Kate more than forgives him, just grateful that he still wanted to see her at all after the way she left him to take the job in DC._

_They are now headed out for a drive together into the Shenandoah National Park, accompanied by the Hudson's dog, Tammy._

* * *

_**Chapter 11 – The Appalachian Trail**_

"She gave you a thermos of coffee?" asks Castle, with amusement, looking over his shoulder into the back seat of the car as he reverses out of the Hudson's driveway.

"Oh, it doesn't stop there. She packed sandwiches, apples, a bag of chips and a couple of freshly baked blueberry muffins. Oh, and some treats for Tammy. There's a whole picnic basket back there," grins Kate, so relieved to see him smiling and enthusiastic after their dark discussion before breakfast.

"I think I _love_ that woman," declares Castle, sounding the horn as they pull out into Main Street, bidding Jerry and Missy a friendly goodbye as they head out for the day.

Kate's lips quirk upward in a fleeting, shy smile, and then she looks down at her lap on hearing this harmless, slightly theatrical remark.

They're backing away from this terrible nightmare that they lost each other somewhere in the middle of – her poor decisions, Tyson's twisted hell – and somehow it's like going back a couple of years to hear him say that he loves anyone.

She knows in her heart that he still loves her and she's more certain than ever that she loves him, come hell or high water, come what may. But she's suddenly unsure where they sit in this moment after his confession this morning – that he endured Tyson's captive hell just so that he could see her again. What does that say about his importance to her that only a serial killer could get her attention, could bring her home to him? He may feel ashamed for not fighting back (she's grateful that he didn't) but she feels even more devastated at her own reckless abandonment of their relationship.

* * *

"Hey?" he says, snagging her attention.

"Mm?" murmurs Kate, her fingers twisting back and forth in her lap.

"Why the sad face?"

"I—sorry, I was just thinking," she tells him, vague but true.

"Nothing good, by the looks of that frown," he teases, and she's grateful that he's trying. But it's still hard to accept the mental torture he's been putting himself through on her behalf.

"Just thinking about this morning…out in the yard," she confesses, forcing herself to be honest with him. "About what you said."

"I'm still sorry I did nothing to protect you," he says, staring straight ahead. "But everything you said makes sense too. I'm trying to hold onto that."

"Good. Because we're still here, Castle. Tyson is gone and we get a second chance," she says, fiercely, as fiercely as she told him that she loved him not two hours ago out in the Hudson's front yard.

"You know that I love you too," he says, startling her with this upfront proclamation, making her wonder if he really _can_ read her mind. "None of what we talked about this morning changes that. Nothing we went through. DC didn't even change that," he adds, quietly, glancing at her before focusing his eyes back on the road.

"For me too," she agrees, leaning against her own door to look at him, her head pillowed against her hand, her eyes soft and clear, a sincere smile playing at her lips.

* * *

Tammy is riding in the cargo space of the SVU, nestled on a ratty old towel with her favorite chew toy and a squeaky, pink ball rolling around beside her. Kate feels ridiculously like they are a family; as if borrowing a friend's dog is enough to repair the trauma they're currently wading their way through.

Still, they do say that pets can be a powerful aid to those suffering from depression, loneliness, trauma or PTSD. Maybe spending time with Tammy will be good for both of them.

They turn West on Main Street, heading for US-211. Downtown Luray is an old style Virginian Main Street community of well maintained and restored nineteenth century brick storefronts with large display windows, retro-warehouse stores and eateries.

"Looks fun around here," observes Castle, taking in the sights as they drive by. "We could go out for dinner tonight. Sample the local scene."

"I'd like that," nods Kate, watching an old man unlock the ornate glass door to an antique store, flicking the sign from 'Closed' to 'Open', his red bow tie standing out like a bloodstain against the crisp collar of his sparkling, white shirt.

"Seems…quaint and friendly."

"After Washington, New York will seem quaint and friendly," muses Kate, looking out the window at a secondhand bookstore whose owner is setting out a folding table with boxes of pre-loved paperback novels Kate has a strong urge to stop and rummage through.

"Maybe we _should_ stay on here for a few days," Kate suggests, not sure if she kept this idea to herself or said it aloud.

"Not quite ready to move on?" asks Castle, confirming that she definitely vocalized her thought.

"Mm. I don't know. This town just has a good feeling about it," she says, stretching out in the passenger seat, feeling relaxed and languorous after their hearty breakfast.

Castle's eyes momentarily leave the road as he glances at her, a spark of hunger igniting in them that isn't missed by Kate when he takes in the elongation of her body with her seat slightly tipped back. She's all long legs, lean torso, and delicious feminine curves; her body sharply delineated in skinny jeans and a close-fitting turtleneck the puts everything out on display.

He clears his throat a couple of times, and Kate watches his Adam's apple bob, notes the way his fingers clench around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. That she still has this power over him pleases her, since looking at him has a similar effect on her mind and body. All's fair...

"Would that be a mysterious _vibe_ you're feeling, Detective Beckett?" Castle teases, getting them back on a lighter track. "A phenomenon you can't see or hear or prove or measure? Like the magical properties of your gut!" he smirks.

"Shut up!" she laughs, slapping his thigh. "Do you _want_ to stay on here or not?"

"I want to do whatever makes you happy," he replies, with frustrating honesty.

"Oh, no," says Kate, shaking her head emphatically and sitting upright once more. "You can't do that. No. Castle, I know you're still feeling guilty about New York, but you can't put yourself last because… Look, I told you—"

"Kate, relax. Relax. Please? Making _you_ happy will make _me_ happy. End of story," he tells her, as if it is the simplest solution in the world, and maybe it is.

"So…you're actually saying that there's maybe a little self interest involved in making me happy?" she teases, letting her frown relax, smooth out and soften into a twinkle-eyed smile.

"_Exactly_. So we should stay. And besides, you were right. We still haven't tried out that Jacuzzi," he adds, giving her a playful nudge.

* * *

They haven't even left Luray and the color of the leaves on the trees and lying by the side of the road is spectacular. The route to Shenandoah National Park takes them up in elevation until they reach the closest entry point, which is at Thornton Gap, about nine miles outside of town. They pull off the road, pay the $15 entrance fee to take the rental car in, and then park up in the parking area.

"You're sure you want to hike?" asks Kate, thinking only of Castle, who is still overcoming the physical trauma of Tyson's period of capture. "We can always take the Skyline Drive. The view from the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains is supposed to be just as spectacular."

"Beckett, we're walking," insists Castle, releasing his seatbelt and cutting the engine.

"Castle," sighs Kate, swiveling in her seat to face him, "you're still…look, you're still recovering from…"

She pauses, her whole body deflating, doesn't want to say the man's name again, doesn't want to bring up bad memories or ruin the happy mood their day has evolved into. But she can't ignore the facts – that he was chained to a radiator for days, drugged, starved and beaten.

"Look, I know that you maybe _feel_ fine, but we haven't exactly been physically active recently. Either of us, and—"

"All the more reason to get out there," he says, waving the hiking trail map the Park employee gave them in front of her. "It's the Appalachian Trail, Beckett. We can't come to Virginia and sit in our rental car, coasting along the Skyline Drive, peering out the windows at the view. Come on. It'll be fun. Right, Tammy?" he calls out, getting a resounding _woof_ from the excited dog thumping her tail in the back of the car as he opens the door and gets out.

A waft of pleasantly cool, freshly scented mountain air swirls into the vehicle when Castle opens the tail lift to the cargo space and lets the dog out.

Kate sighs, unsure why she's dragging her feet at this point. Castle was so quiet in Washington that she worried about him. He unburdened himself to her this morning and now he wants to get out in the fresh air and go for a hike, burn off some energy. It should be as simple as that. If she's frustrated by their lack of physical intimacy, then it stands to reason he would be too. They were apart for months, neither of them saw other people, the attraction they feel for one another didn't just disappear over that time, and now they're back sharing a bed every night with nothing beyond the briefest hugs and the lightest of touches happening between them.

She wants him back in her life in all the ways that count, but he asked for time, and she is trying to respect his request and give him as much space as he needs to let him lead the dance again. Maybe this hike is exactly what she could do with to burn off some frustration of her own.

* * *

"Right behind you," she yells, getting out of the car and running to catch up with man and dog, who're already heading towards the pathway that will eventually lead them to the panoramic viewing point known as Mary's Rock, some 3000 feet above Luray.

Castle is wearing a backpack with all the food and their thermos of coffee packed inside. The plaid blanket Missy gave them for their picnic is rolled up and strapped to the top.

"Are you sure I can't take a turn carrying that thing?" asks Kate, not for the first time.

Castle slams to a stop on the trail and turns to face her. Kate and Tammy almost collide with him, all three ending up in a tight bunch.

"Okay, I am _not_ an invalid, and _you_ are in charge of the dog," he points out, gesturing down at Tammy, who is straining on her leash, the heavy scent of fresh deer scat drawing her attention. "So, can we just enjoy the view and can you maybe…_stop_ trying to drive for once?" Castle whispers, his face scrunched up in an adorable grimace, since he's desperately trying not to offend Kate, but he really needs her to back off with the fussing, she can see.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," she murmurs, letting him usher her ahead of him when the path narrows slightly and the rock walls come into view in the distance.

They ascend the trail through a natural corridor of red spruce and balsam fir trees. The yellow-green needles of the red spruce glow a glossy lime in the sun, while the shorter balsam fir have smooth, grey bark that is split and stained with burst blisters of dried resin in places. Kate hears the thud of a pinecone as it hits the springy, needle covered ground beneath the tree canopy, popping open to release it's winged seeds to the ground below.

The air has warmed up a lot since they sat outside before breakfast, and Kate takes off her jacket, trying it around her waist, her turtleneck sweater more than warm enough while they climb.

Eventually, they near a side trail where the path branches off to the right, the sound of fast running water drifting up from the hollow down below.

"What _is_ that?" ask Kate, when Castle stops to consult the map.

"There's a creek less than a mile down that way. Wanna go see?" asks Castle, with that little boy excitement she so loves.

The sunlight catches his face, making his blue eyes pale as turquoise and his hair shine with a healthy luster.

Kate finds herself staring at him, her lips slightly parted, as she takes in the beauty of this briefly broken man; a man she almost lost forever. A man she now can't ever imagine being without.

"Kate?" asks Castle, prompting her back to blushing awareness.

"Sorry, I was…"

"_Staring_," he grins, finishing her hanging sentence for her.

"Yeah. Busted," she laughs, looking down at the ground, kicking at a worn tree root with the toe of her boot until Tammy tugs on her leash and they have to make a decision.

"So? Creek or Mary's rock? You choose," he says gently, letting her off the hook without embarrassing her in a way he might once have found fun.

"I do love the sound of running water," she admits, giving him a hopeful look.

"Fine. But if I have to go potty behind a tree, I don't want to hear you complain," jokes Castle, leading them off down the winding trail in search of the bubbling stream.

* * *

The trail suddenly opens out a couple of minutes later and they find themselves on some wide, flat rocks with trees extending out on either side and the rushing, tumbling, burbling creek running right past them a few feet below.

The water is crystal clear and it looks cold and fresh. The trees on the other bank are deciduous – oak and maple - their leaves now a riot of fall color.

"Wow!" says Castle, stopping to admire the view.

"That is breathtaking," agrees Kate, coming to stand beside him.

The foilage on the opposite side of the creek looks as if it is on fire. The leaves positively glowing with color: maple rimmed in a bright scarlet red that burns through orange to the gold of a flickering flame at the heart of each palm shaped leaf. The shiny oak leaves are a palette of greens and yellows that span from bright lime to bitter lemon.

"Is this a good spot for a picnic?" grins Castle, hoisting the backpack down onto the ground and rolling his shoulders. "Or is this a good spot?"

The sun is bathing the flat rocks in warmth, and there's a softer patch of ground off to the side of the trail that's clear of ground cover due to the thick, acidic layer of springy pine needles covering the dry earth.

"I think you may have found the perfect spot," agrees Kate, calling the dog to heel and then holding her leash out for Castle to take charge of her.

* * *

Kate spreads the plaid, woolen blanket on the ground and then she busies herself with the contents of Missy's picnic, while Castle walks the dog down to the edge of the creek to drink, after he finds a path to take them the rest of the way to the water, which is flowing several feet below.

After a quiet moment or two, Kate can hear stones hitting the rocks that lie out in the center of the creek, some small and light, some splashing loudly, more like boulders being dropped into a deep pool. She smiles, pleased Castle is having fun, enjoying being out in the fresh air herself, feeling the sun on her face after weeks of being cooped up inside a dry, air conditioned office building.

When Castle doesn't immediately return, she lies down on the blanket to wait for him, letting the heat soak through the dark fabric of her jeans and sweater, all the way down into her bones.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because she startles awake when she feels the light whack of a tail repeatedly hitting her boot and then gets a nudge in her ribs when Castle sinks onto the blanket beside her and accidently bumps against her when the enthusiastic dog decides to follow him, knocking him over.

"Hey! No! Off! Stay off the blanket. That's a good girl," he tells Tammy, as Kate sits up on her elbow to watch the comedic scene unfolding in front of her.

"You have such a way with the ladies, Castle," she grins, nudging him back with a playful bump of her shoulder. "How they listen to you…quite a sight!"

"Oh, no! No way! I am _not_ taking that from you," he grins back, primed for retaliation.

His large, powerful hands are on her waist without a second's thought, and he uses his extensive knowledge of her body to tickle her to tears.

Kate pulls her knees up, trying to protect herself from his fiendish onslaught, gasping for air as she writhes on the blanket in a fit of hysterics. By the time Tammy starts barking her disapproval, Castle is starting to ease off, and they both flop onto their backs in exhaustion, still laughing, shaking and fighting for breath, tears leaking out of the sides of their eyes.

* * *

"That was mean," gasps Kate, straightening out her sweater, which has ridden up exposing an inch or so of her stomach.

"I know. But I'm not even sorry," replies Castle, with an amused sigh, pillowing one arm behind his head and grinning up at the blue sky. "I can't remember the last time I laughed so much."

"Yeah. Me either," agrees Kate, her smile shrinking as they slowly come back down to earth.

She sighs and rolls onto her side to look at him.

"Promise me whatever happens you'll never stop laughing, Castle?"

"What?" he asks, frowning, before he rolls over to face her. "What does that mean? _Whatever happens?_"

"It means…it means what it means," she shrugs. "We don't know what's around the corner. That's all. Not many men get to adulthood still full of the joy they had as kids. I don't ever want that to stop for you."

"Okay," he says, warily. "I will try to take that as a compliment and not a sign that you think I'm childish and immature."

"Castle, you already know what I think of you. Stop fishing for compliments," she scolds lightly, meeting his eyes and smiling at him.

Flirting would actually be a more accurate description of what they're doing right now, both as deeply engaged as the other.

* * *

"I've missed this," he says, after a beat or two of silence, where they just stare at one another. "Just spending time with you…doing nothing in particular."

"Castle?" says Kate, her tone questioning, when he looks down at the blanket, plucks at a pine needle he finds lying there, and then looks into her eyes with such longing that it makes her heart jump in her chest.

"I've missed _you_," he confesses, leaning in closer, curling a strand of her hair around his forefinger.

He briefly rests his forehead against hers, and Kate holds her breath, keeping her eyes trained on the blanket, hope filling her to the brim. He has to do this for them, it's only fair, so she leaves every move up to him.

When he cups the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair, she shivers despite the heat of this warm, fall day.

"Kate?" he whispers, swallowing hard, seeking her permission.

She raises her eyes to him and whatever he sees there is enough to spur him on. He presses a feather light kiss to her forehead and then lowers his mouth to kiss each of her cheeks in turn, so softly, so tenderly, that she wants to cry out.

Kate feels a swell of emotion rising in her chest, a sob building in her throat, and she finds her hand gripping his shoulder before she knows what she's even doing.

Castle rubs his cheek against hers, up and down, his freshly shaved skin so soft and cool when it touches hers, and Kate whimpers, her fingers clutching onto his jacket to keep him close.

His nose nudges hers and she feels the exquisite sensation of his warm breath whispering against her damp lips a millisecond before he kisses her. Her lips part in longing as he brushes her soft mouth with his own, so lightly that she wonders if he's teasing her, until he takes a sharp breath in and crushes his lips against hers. He rolls her onto her back, still cradling her head, with the momentum of his own body's desperate surge towards her.

* * *

When the first shot rings out, it's as clear as a bell - a loud crack that echoes through the trees and bounces off the rocks, splintering the sound and making it appear as if two or three shots in quick succession, instead of just one.

Kate's senses are all to hell. She's still floating on the sea of sensation she was completely giving herself over to when the next shot comes, and Castle is the one who reacts.

"_Gun!_" he yells, scaring the dog, who starts to bark and run in panicked circles around them.

Castle throws his body fully over Kate's to protect her, covering her head with his hands, his cheek pressed next to her ear, breathing heavily, as she fights to get to grips with the situation, to get her brain around what the hell is going on.

The third shot comes terrifyingly close, cracking off a nearby boulder and sending shards of rock and dust raining down a few feet away from them.

The noise is terrifying, and that's when Castle snaps...

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	12. Chapter 12 - Breakthrough

_A/N: Again, sorry for the time delay between updates. That pesky little thing called real life again, folks. :) _

* * *

_**Chapter 12 – Breakthrough**_

_Previously..._

_"I've missed you," he confesses, leaning in closer, curling a strand of her hair around his forefinger._

_He briefly rests his forehead against hers, and Kate holds her breath, keeping her eyes trained on the blanket, hope filling her to the brim. He has to do this for them, it's only fair, so she leaves every move up to him._

_When he cups the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair, she shivers despite the heat of this warm, fall day._

_"Kate?" he whispers, swallowing hard, seeking her permission._

_She raises her eyes to him and whatever he sees there is enough to spur him on. He presses a feather light kiss to her forehead and then lowers his mouth to kiss each of her cheeks in turn, so softly, so tenderly, that she wants to cry out._

_Kate feels a swell of emotion rising in her chest, a sob building in her throat, and she finds her hand gripping his shoulder before she knows what she's even doing._

_Castle rubs his cheek against hers, up and down, his freshly shaved skin so soft and cool when it touches hers, and Kate whimpers, her fingers clutching onto his jacket to keep him close._

_His nose nudges hers and she feels the exquisite sensation of his warm breath whispering against her damp lips a millisecond before he kisses her. Her lips part in longing as he brushes her soft mouth with his own, so lightly that she wonders if he's teasing her, until he takes a sharp breath in and crushes his lips against hers. He rolls her onto her back, still cradling her head, with the momentum of his own body's desperate surge towards her._

* * *

_When the first shot rings out, it's as clear as a bell - a loud crack that echoes through the trees and bounces off the rocks, splintering the sound and making it appear as if two or three shots in quick succession, instead of just one._

_Kate's senses are all to hell. She's still floating on the sea of sensation she was completely giving herself over to when the next shot comes, and Castle is the one who reacts._

_"Gun!" he yells, scaring the dog, who starts to bark and run in panicked circles around them._

_Castle throws his body fully over Kate's to protect her, covering her head with his hands, his cheek pressed next to her ear, breathing heavily, as she fights to get to grips with the situation, to get her brain around what the hell is going on._

_The third shot comes terrifyingly close, cracking off a nearby boulder and sending shards of rock and dust raining down a few feet away from them._

_The noise is terrifying, and that's when Castle snaps..._

* * *

"Castle?"

Silence.

"Castle are you hurt?" asks Kate, looking up into her partner's face, which is hovering an inch away from her own, so close that they're sharing air.

"No," he mumbles, incoherently, and at first she feels relief until she _really_ hears him.

His gaze is fuzzy and unfocused, and the glaze in his eyes makes her blood run cold. Her hands immediately roam his back, searching for, but hoping not to find, that warm, sticky, damp ooze that will mean this day just flipped from bad to great to terrible again.

"No," he says again a little louder, fingers digging into the top of her left arm and her ribs on her right side. "No, no, no," he repeats until his quiet chant escalates. "Not again," he finally says, adding, "No way, no!" with harsh finality.

"Castle, please look at me," asks Kate, managing to get one hand free of his protective weight to palm his face. "Have you been shot?" she asks, her eyes wide, frightened and almost resigned to hearing bad news.

"Shot? No," he says, snapping out of the inner monologue he'd just been conducting with himself. "Are you…are you okay?" he stammers, full of concern, easing off her body just a little, his large frame still containing and shielding her like a protective barrier from the direction of fire.

And it's as if a fog has cleared and he has returned to himself; reinhabited his own body. A steely, determination sparks in his eyes and he looks different, better…whole again.

"I'm fine," Kate reassures him. "But there _is_ someone up there, Castle. We need to stay down and find some cover, okay?" she says, testing his coherency levels again, her ears attuned for any sound off and up to their left.

* * *

Tammy, the Hudson's golden retriever, is growling now, a low and threatening sound that Kate can physically feel vibrating in the center of her chest. The dog circles them again, as if trying to keep them safe, and then she drops to the ground in front of them, resting her chin on her two front paws, ears pulled back slightly.

Since the third shot was fired, silence has returned to the Shenandoah National Park– the noisy silence of nature that is. The creek continues to rush by below them, smoothing rocks and stones as it follows its ancient path down towards the town of Luray over three thousand feet below. The wind is blowing gently, stirring the pine trees on either side of them; a lonely whispering sound that Kate finds deeply moving, almost saddening. And the sun is still shining in the perfect blue sky, making the last hundred and twenty seconds seem like a surreal daydream.

"We need to get up," says Castle, suddenly taking charge. "We're sitting ducks if we lie here any longer."

"Over to the right," suggests Kate, indicating the tree line closest to them. The edge of woodland is the nearest cover to the trail that led them to this spot. "The pines. There's plenty of shadow and it's near the pathway. Watch out for twigs or downed branches," she warns, knowing they'll have to keep noise to a minimum.

"You ready?" asks Castle, holding onto the front of Kate's sweater for a second and making meaningful eye contact with her.

The way he looks, it's as if their connection has been restored, reset to that wonderful, heady time of utter closeness and understanding they shared in the period between becoming a couple and falling apart. She has mourned that feeling for months.

"Ready," she nods, feeling a surge of hope in her chest.

* * *

Kate struggles to get up off her back until he helps her.

Castle gets to his feet first and then he grasps both Kate's hands, pulling her up so forcefully that she collides with his chest. He doesn't even sway. He's as steady on his feet as she's ever seen him and he keeps hold of her hand as he turns them towards the tree line they're aiming for.

Kate, on the other hand, is woozy, lightheaded. The sun, his kiss, the short doze she took before he came back up from the creek with the dog, even the heat of the clothes she's wearing for their hike, all of these things have conspired to make her head swim when she stands, pinprick spots of colored light shooting in front of her eyes.

Castle takes her elbow and hurries her towards the trees. But Tammy gets up when she sees them moving and she dances round in front of them as if trying to herd them away from the direction they've chosen. When they're almost safely out of the open, a shaft of sunlight breaks through the branches extending out overhead, dazzling Kate with its intensity as she stares into the shady haven of the pinewoods, trying to focus her eyes away from the glare.

She misses her footing, then misses the dog altogether, standing on the end of the trailing braided rope leash, and pretty soon she's toppling, falling. She goes down hard on her right knee, even with Castle's hand on her arm, and it hurts like hell. Pain explodes in her patella when it hits the rock and her arm is wrenched by the force of her whole bodyweight hanging from Castle's grip alone.

"Jeez!" he curses, managing to prevent himself from doing the same thing at the very last second.

"Tammy!" he hisses, calling the dog to his side and hooking the fingers of his free hand under her collar as he leads both Kate and the whimpering pooch off into the woods with his arm now wrapped around her waist.

Their movement must spark something because suddenly another shot is fired, glancing off the trunk of a tree behind them this time, sending splinters of dry bark flying in several directions.

"What the hell!" curses Castle, carrying further on into the cover of the trees than he initially intended.

"Do you think we're being hunted?" he asks Kate, his arm still secure around her waist.

"Hunting season doesn't open until mid-November round here."

"No. No, I didn't—I mean…" he sighs, runs a hand through his hair in discomfort, before pushing out, "Do…do you think someone is looking for us?"

"Castle, no!" insists Kate, gripping his arm and emphatically shaking her head. "Don't think like that. That is _over_! You hear?"

"So…should we yell out or something? Let them know we're here?"

"Oh, yeah, because that's always a good idea," says Kate, sarcastically. "Letting the hunter see his prey."

"I'm just trying to help. You have a better idea?" he bickers back.

"I'm sorry," she sighs, trying to get a hold of her own fear. "I'm sorry I snapped. If it's illegal hunting we want to get out of here. Let the rangers deal with it."

"And if it isn't?"

"I'm not even going to entertain that thought," she tells him, sinking down onto a pine needle-covered rock to rest her knee.

"Do you have any reception on your phone?" she asks, holding her hand out for his cell phone.

Castle pulls it out of his pocket and unlocks the screen.

"Nope. Nada. You?"

"My phone is out there," says Kate, pointing towards their abandoned picnic spot, where her jacket is lying in a folded heap on Missy's woolen blanket. "And since we're both on the same carrier…" she shrugs, wincing when she moves her leg and another sharp jolt of pain shoots through her knee.

"Hurts?" asks Castle, crouching down in front of her.

He gently probes the soft tissue above and to either side of her knee, stopping with a quick apology when she hisses and pulls away from him.

"Just a little," she nods, and he can tell that is a massive understatement, a typical show of Beckett-like bravery.

"Can you walk?"

"Think so. Help me up?" she asks, and he does.

Her two hands in his, and then he's lifting, leaning in, taking the strain. She could weep, and it's not from the pain in her knee or fear of what might be out there shooting at them. It's from the change she can see in Castle – from wounded, fragile victim, to determined, unflinching warrior. He's there for her again.

Her partner is back.

* * *

Castle meets her eyes when she stands and does nothing more, her right leg poised at a slight angle as she balances with her foot on tiptoe, taking the full weight of her body on her good leg and the steady, unfailing support of his grip.

"How does that feel?" he asks, when she keeps staring at him, eventually forced to look away by the intensity of her gaze.

"Feels…good," she says, and he frowns, puzzled. "Oh, I—I'm sorry. You meant my knee," she reminds them both aloud, her cheeks flushing pink.

Tammy growls, sinking down on her back legs and then she makes a little jump, accompanying it with a sharp bark.

"If whoever is out there didn't know where we were hiding, he sure as hell does now," hisses Castle, trying to hold onto Kate and grab for the dog with his free hand.

It's hopeless.

"You okay to stand by yourself for a second while I get her under control?" asks Castle, letting go of her arm when she nods.

He makes to leave her side but she grabs for his arm again before he can completely move out of range. She ends up holding his hand instead.

"Castle, if we get out of here…" whispers Kate, urgently.

"_When_," he replies, turning back to grip her shoulder, ducking his head to lock eyes with her.

"Right. _When_ we get out of here," she repeats more calmly, nodding to acknowledge the distinction he just made.

"Different," he nods, in answer to the question she has yet to even ask. "Things will be different. I promise."

"Good," she replies, flashing him a quick, slightly worried smile.

Because she wants _different_. Different coming from her partner means more, better, good, words like future and always. She can already see it in his face – a determination that he and she will be better from now on.

* * *

Tammy barks again and then growls low in her throat, making snapping noises as she paces an imaginary line a few feet out in front of them.

Castle reaches the dog, slips his hand under her collar and he's in the process of turning her round to lead her back towards Kate when another shot is fired. It hits the ground a couple of feet away from him, a dull thud that sends a puff of dust and desiccated pine straw up from the dry earth in a small cloud that catches the fleeting sunlight filtering through the lush, dark branches above them, speckling the air with seeds and spores. It's far too close for comfort.

"Holy shit!" hisses Castle, covering his head with his free hand and then dragging the dog after him as he beats a retreat back towards Kate.

"They're getting closer," says Kate, forced back down onto the rock she'd been sitting on before without Castle by her side to support her.

"We have got to get out of here," he says, looping Tammy's leash around his hand and wrist a couple of times before lifting Kate to her feet again. "Lean on me, okay?"

"I have a sudden urge to burst into song," says Kate, laughing nervously.

"Seriously? Bill Withers?" he chuckles, equally nervous. "And since when were you not strong?" he asks, turning them away from the direction they just came.

"I can't believe I'm even joking about this. We're being shot at and I'm falling back one of _your_ coping mechanisms," Kate mutters, biting her lip to counteract the pain shooting through her knee and up her thigh.

* * *

They get no more than a dozen limping steps before Kate spots it.

"Shhh. Stop moving," she tells him, squeezing his arm to halt them both. "Look. There," she whispers, pointing reverently towards the dark edge of the pine woods, the fringe where sunlight is almost beyond possibility and deep shadow begins to take over.

Standing still, head bowed to the forest floor while it rips at a patch of grass and lichen that's sprouting from a rotting log, is a white tailed deer. The young buck's antlers have begun to appear, their velvety soft skin covering fraying at the edges now that fall is here, coat dulled to a grey-brown color that blends well with the dun color of the surrounding tree trunks.

There is something so magical about this placid beast feeding merely twenty-five yards ahead of them that Kate forgets all about gunfire and all about her own personal turmoil. She just wants to marvel in the moment.

Castle watches Kate watching the deer, her face a picture of beauty and serenity nothing in nature could match in his opinion. Her eyes are wide and yet soft, her lips slightly parted in wonder. She looks humbled, peaceful, and he has the strongest urge to kiss her again. To kiss her and hold her and tell her that it's over.

Unfortunately, Tammy isn't so easily impressed. She whines and then growls, straining against Castle's firm grip, and as soon as her scent and movement breach the deer's awareness, he is off, springing light and silent as a ghost through the trees until he is swallowed up by the darkness.

The white powder puff underside of his tail, raised in alarm, is the last thing Kate sees before the shouting starts.

* * *

"Park Police, drop your weapon," is what she hears first.

"Did you hear that?" Castle hisses, so close to her ear that she startles, blindly grappling for his arm as shivers race up and down her spine.

The dog paws the pine straw, stirring a trail of ants, and then she performs a little stomping dance that would be insanely funny if they weren't in the middle of a standoff.

"Drop the rifle and raise your hands, son," repeats the loud, forceful, male voice.

The sound of small stones or rocks tumbling onto the flat expanse they'd chosen for their picnic tells Kate just how close the men are. The wind whispers through the pine trees again, and for a brief second it sounds like nature calling out her name, Kate thinks. She feels different – loose and yet more centered. A jag of adrenalin has increased her heart rate and numbed some of the pain in her leg.

"What should we—"

"Shhh," whispers Kate, putting a finger to Castle's lips instead of her own to keep him quiet.

Though he looks slightly surprised by her touch, he doesn't pull away. His lips are warm and dry, and she has a sudden desire to slide her arms up around his neck, draw him down to her and slant her mouth over his until his lips part and she can stroke her tongue inside his perfect warmth. The kiss they shared earlier was wonderful, tender, breathtaking, but far, far too short.

"Down on the ground. Slowly. Put it right in front of you where I can see it. That's it. Now kick it to me and get your hands up," barks the Park Policeman.

As soon as Kate hears the ratcheting of a pair of cuffs, she decides it's time to make themselves known.

"Follow my lead," she tells Castle, taking hold of his arm again for support.

* * *

Kate announces their presence to the cop, and Castle lets go the dog to help Kate walk out into the open – one hand at her elbow, the other arm secured around her waist. She makes a slight noise of protest, but he silences her with a look that says 'you aren't going to win this time, Kate'. They clear the tree line with their hands raised and stop so that the Park Ranger, who's just arrived, can approach them.

"Rogue hunters," the man tells Kate and Castle, shaking his head. "Been seeing more and more of 'em since the downturn in '08. Mill closed. Put a lot of folks out of work. Not a lot of prospects around here as it goes."

"So…what? Hunting deer? For money?" asks Castle, staring at the guy of maybe twenty years old, dressed head to toe in camouflage, a tattoo of a rose on his neck with the word '_Mom'_ inked below it.

"They sell the venison at farmer's markets or to butchers who don't ask too many questions. Some even go door-to-door with the stuff."

"He was shooting at us!" exclaims Castle, waving an exasperated hand in the slouching guy's direction.

"We'll process him, Sir. Check his gun license, hunting permit, any priors. But he'll probably be let off with a fine. You want to make a formal complaint, that's up to you."

"Eh…Castle," whispers Kate, taking his hand and slowly leading him a few steps off to the side where they can speak privately.

"What?" he asks, vibrating with fury at the ranger's laidback attitude.

"We're on vacation and—"

"And that guy just shot at us, Kate!"

"Yes. Yes, I know that. But I don't think we were his intended target, Castle. Maybe the movement of the dog or that deer that we saw…?" she suggests, squeezing his arm. "Look at him. He's little more than a kid, scratching out a living—"

"Killing deer out of season. That has got to be a felony. Surely?"

"Castle," sighs Kate, shifting position slightly on her good leg, "I just really want to go home right now."

When he looks at her face, painted with exhaustion and the strain of the pain she must be in, he gives in immediately.

"I'm sorry. Sure. Home? As in…?" he checks.

"Home as in the Hudson's Inn, to our _romantic_," and she laughs when she says the word, shaking her head, her grin strangely bright when matched with her pained eyes, "our romantic, pink suite with that sinfully underused Jacuzzi. Now, if you want a trip to the local cop shop with Huckleberry Fin over there, be my guest."

The twinkle in Kate's eye and the humor in her voice is enough to dissolve his determination to pursue it.

"Eh, no. No, I don't think that will be necessary. You've got this, right, Officer…eh…Ranger Bradley?" he says, turning back to the Park Ranger.

* * *

Castle packs up their picnic things and rounds up the dog, while Kate hitches a ride back to their car on the Ranger's ATV.

She's waiting for him, stretched out along the back seat of their SUV with a mug of sweet tea and an icepack on her knee when he finally arrives, pink-cheeked and a little out of breath.

"Miss me?" he beams at her, loading Tammy into the cargo space.

"Maybe," she grins, coyly, before thanking the Ranger for keeping her company and returning the mug and icepack to him so they can be on their way.

They pass a sign on the road out of Shenandoah National Park that says _'Be Bear Aware'_ and Kate lets out an amused, breathy sigh.

"_Seriously?_ They think _bears_ are the biggest danger people face out here. What about the trigger-happy locals with mercifully poor aim?" grumbles Castle.

"Still want to hang around here for a bit?" asks Kate, a tone of amused challenge to her voice.

"Oh, yeah. I won't be run out of town that easily. And besides, this place suits you."

He reaches across the console and takes her hand.

"I mean it. You look…radiant out there in nature. Totally relaxed," he says, with sincerity that surprises her.

"When I'm not being shot at or falling over the dog, you mean?" she jokes, finding the compliment a little overwhelming.

"You know what I mean. You look beautiful, Kate," he says, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

She swallows thickly and nips at her lip to stop the tears from coming. He's back. She doesn't fully understand why, but she plans on asking him later exactly what happened out in the woods. For now she's just so, so grateful.

"Ranger said they're always looking for volunteers," she jokes, changing the subject to distract herself. "Give special preference to applicants with law enforcement training too. So if I ever get fed up working with Rachel and the boys…" she grins, squeezing his hand.

"Back to nature?" asks Castle, wiggling his eyebrows, as they coast down the hill towards town.

"I'd settle for back to normal," replies Kate, with a sincerity of her own that she's pleased to see he seems to understand, if his slow, deliberate nod is anything to go by.

"Normal as in…?" he pushes, making her explain what she wants, what she's hoping for.

"Normal as in…back to our old life. Before DC, before Tyson…before I almost cost us this when I nearly threw it all away," she says, honestly, lacing her fingers through his.

"I'd like that too."

"Really?"

"Yes. Normal is highly underrated, Beckett. I think we should work on elevating normal to an art form," he tells her, taking a sharp bend one-handed because he can't bring himself to let go her hand.

"Right, well, let's put two hands back on the wheel so we get an even chance at normal. A car wreck on the way home would be a terrible way to end the day," she laughs, slapping his thigh when he pouts at the loss of her hand from his.

* * *

News spreads fast in this small town and by the time they pull into the Hudson's driveway back in Main Street, Luray, the couple are out on the front porch waiting for them, concerned looks on their faces.

"Tammy is fine. We're both fine…or well, Kate's knee took a beating but…"reassures Castle, helping her out of the car.

"It's just badly bruised, I'm sure," she insists, hobbling indoors with Castle's arm banded around her back for support.

"Need me to carry you upstairs?" he teases, once they're inside, laughing when Kate pokes him in the stomach and fires a Beckett glare at him.

"Save it. We're not quite there yet," she tells him, and he frowns, misunderstanding her. "Old age? Stairlifts?" she explains, giving him a funny look before holding out her arm so that he can help her hop up to their room.

"Right," nods Castle, thinking of a carrying of a completely different kind - one that involves white dresses and thresholds and honeymoons…

And why aren't they there yet?

* * *

_Thoughts? Hope everyone has a great weekend whatever you have planned. Stay warm and safe. Liv x_


	13. Chapter 13 - Understanding

_A/N: Another quick update to keep this story moseying along. :)_

* * *

_**Chapter 13 – Understanding**_

"You okay?" asks Kate, sinking down onto the bed with a sigh of utter relief.

"Okay?" asks Castle, absently, his back to her as he hangs their coats in the big antique wardrobe on the far side of the room.

Wooden hangers jostle on the rail, making quite a racket, as he juggles bulky outerwear onto their frustrating slopes and angles while Kate watches his powerful shoulders work beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah. Getting shot at? Not exactly the fall color we had in mind for today," she adds, trying to open up the discussion she wants to have with a little lighthearted intro.

"True. But all's well that ends well," he replies casually, turning back round to face her, still folding his scarf.

"You want to ice your knee now or…?"

Castle stops dead, finding Kate laid out on the bed with her eyes closed. She looks like a goddess.

"Or?" probes Kate, cracking open one eye.

"The eh…the Jacuzzi. You want me to fill her up?"

"The Jacuzzi's a _she?_" teases Kate, enjoying Castle's flustered expression. "I had no idea."

"If…if you don't want…" he flounders.

"Come here. Sit beside me," she says, patting the bed. "I want to ask you something."

Castle hesitates for a second, and then he does as she asks, climbing onto the bed via his own side, trying to be gentle so as not to jostle her leg on the springy, soft mattress.

"Can you unzip my jeans?"

"Your…uh…Kate?" he mutters, giving her a questioning look.

"At the ankle," she clarifies, biting back the huff of frustration his hesitancy causes to bubble up in her. She wants more than anything for him to stop being so careful with her, so reverent. She feels as if they have been doing a dance lately - one step forward and two steps back.

"Ankle. Right," he nods with relief, opening the zipper at the hem of her pants and then gently peeling the leg all the way up until it exposes her swollen knee.

"Ice pack," prompts Kate, when he just sits there, gently ghosting his fingertips over the unblemished skin above her bruised knee joint.

"Sorry. Right. Just here?" he asks, laying the icepack gently onto her knee.

Kate shivers and goose bumps rise up all along her skin from the shock of the icepack and the tenderness of her partner's touch.

"Feel okay?"

"Cold," she murmurs, closing her eyes again, her head pillowed under one arm.

Castle lies down too, so that he's on his side and can still face her. He watches her chest rise and fall as she breathes steadily for a few seconds and then he closes his eyes and releases a long, peaceful breath.

* * *

"What happened out there?"

Kate's question is like a bolt out of the blue, even if she did already warn him that she wanted to talk. Her tone is light, questioning, but the need to understand the transformation that took place in him on that flat slab of rock rings clear as a bell in the words that she says.

"Out where?" he hedges, buying time.

"Rick," scolds Kate, without even opening her eyes this time. "Talk to me."

She prods him in the thigh, unamused by his deliberate avoidance.

"You were there. You know what happened," he persists. "Shot at by poachers and, Beckett, you do realize that we never got a chance to sample Missy's homemade muffins."

His joke disappoints her, falls flat.

Kate lies perfectly still for a second, the throb in her knee seeming to increase with her irritation as she drums out a matching beat on the edge of the bed. He's defaulting to his coping mechanism again, when all she wants him to do is open up to her so they can understand one another better. She's through just coping, surviving, muddling along. She wants them both to be more than this now, after everything they've gone through to get here.

"I'm not doing this anymore. Not with you," declares Kate, struggling to a sitting position and smoothing her hands over the comforter a little crossly.

"Wait. No. I'll talk, I promise. Just…please, relax," he tells her, gently pushing on her shoulder to get her to lie back down.

Kate sighs and then gives in, flopping back onto the bouncy mattress. The pink frilled canopy above the bed leers down at her tauntingly. She wonders how many romantic nights this place has borne witness to, how many babies born nine months after a stay here, and then she wrinkles her nose and shivers, trying to push that thought back out of her head.

* * *

After a few more seconds of silence, measured out by the ticking of the antique carriage clock sitting above the fireplace, Kate hears him draw a breath and she waits.

"When the first shot went off…I was a little…distracted. By you," Castle starts to explain, staring straight up at the canopy too. "I meant what I said. I have _really_ missed you, Kate. I was so hurt when you left the way you did. I couldn't understand it. I thought we had a life together. A good life. You leaving like that…it was as bad, no…no actually it was _worse_ than the end of both my marriages because I thought you and I were for keeps. I thought we had something special."

Kate listens in utter silence, barely daring to breathe. Though she has the urge to chip in her five cents worth several times, to correct or reassure him, she knows that she will learn so much more if she just lets him talk.

"We both know what happened after that. No point chewing over it again. But since you persuaded me to follow you to DC, showed me the hollow life you led there, filled in the blanks that kept me up nights…it helped. And then this…this vacation idea…" he carries on haltingly. "We've talked more over the last few days than we have in a really long time, and you're different, Kate. You're so much more open…even with complete strangers like the Hudsons. You're more open with me."

"I want to be completely honest with—"

"Shhh," Castle whispers, gently pressing a finger to Kate's lips this time.

She blinks hard and nods for him to continue.

"See, that's what I mean. The Kate Beckett I first met would have ripped my arm off for telling her to be quiet. You've grown-up Kate. We both have. It's as if we've buffed the rough edges off one another and all the things we've been through together have added to the process along the way."

"You seemed confused at first after the shots were fired. I was worried. You were chanting something. You kept saying 'no', over and over. What was that?"

"I was deciding. For myself."

"Deciding? Deciding what?"

"To live. To forgive. Not to let fear drive me anymore. I was making choices for myself…and for us too, hopefully."

"What sort of choices?" asks Kate, grabbing a fistful of comforter and scrunching it up in her hand to anchor her to the bed, too afraid to hope but needing to all the same.

"Life changing ones, hopefully," he replies, enigmatically.

* * *

Castle sits up abruptly and swings his legs off the bed, ending the discussion and leaving Kate in a state of shocked bewilderment.

"Where are you going?"

"To fill the tub. Just relax. If your knee feels better we can go downtown later like we planned. If not, we can have dinner with the Hudsons," he shrugs, strolling casually into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Kate sags back on the bed and claps two hands over her eyes. She has no idea if what Castle just said is a good thing or not. Life changing decisions? She would wring his neck right now if she wasn't so pleased at how much better he seems, how much more confident and sure of himself.

She lies there for ten minutes or so while the deep tub fills and Castle sings to himself beyond the bathroom door. If she knows him like she thinks she does, he's in there in front of the magnifying mirror trimming his eyebrows with her sharpest nail scissors. She's half tempted to get up and surprise him, but the bed is so comfortable and her knee has finally stopped throbbing, so she lies still instead, letting the sound of the running water lull her to sleep.

The whisper light touch of his fingers in her hair and the sound of her name being murmured next to her ear are what wake her.

"Bath's ready," Castle tells her, smiling when she opens her eyes and stares at him, unsure of her surroundings for a second or two. "You were out cold. Sure you're okay?" he asks, laying a hand on her forehead.

Kate swallows and nods.

"Take it easy. Don't get up too quickly."

When the room stops spinning, Kate lets Castle help her to a sitting position and then she swings her feet to the floor. Her leg is stiff, her knee undeniably swollen, but other than that, she feels pretty well rested.

"Help me up?" she asks, holding out both hands to him.

"With pleasure. Take it slow," he says, walking her backwards towards the en suite.

"This reminds me of your ski injury. Remember? You were such a grouch. Always phoning me up at work begging me to come home and visit you," she grins.

"Now do you understand why I couldn't get over how you left…why you didn't want to keep in contact?" he asks, the hurt in his eyes dimming the happy smile on her face at the vivid memories of his surprise party and how close they were back then.

* * *

Kate stops walking, and she draws Castle closer to her by applying pressure to his grip. Once he's close enough she sinks her forehead onto his shoulder and then turns her head to one side, burying her face in his neck.

"I can't say sorry anymore, Rick. The word has lost its meaning, its power. All I can do is be here, show you."

"I know," he murmurs, stroking a hand down her back.

"Give me a chance to love you again and you'll know how deeply I regret every second of the pain I put you through."

"I'm here. We're both trying. I know what I want but I'm not rushing it, Kate. We took our time before and when it finally happened for us it was so good, meant so much. I want that back. Can you understand?"

"We can't erase the past, Castle, if that's what you're trying to do. You know that. Remember what Dr. Burke said. We have to learn to live with it, accept it."

"Maybe. But we can make sure we're on the same page heading into the future."

"And today? Where does that leave us?"

"What happened today was about me. About getting past the feelings of guilt and shame and impotence that nightmare with Tyson brought on me. I didn't like the person I'd turned into. Someone shoots at you, there are two ways to react. The coward's way or the man I used to be when we first met. I don't want to hide anymore. I might not be great at it, I'm just a civilian as you've pointed out plenty of times, but in my own head I always did whatever it took to protect you. I ran towards danger, not away from it. I want to be that man again, Kate."

"Castle, listen to me," she says, holding his hands tightly in her own, "you never stopped being that man in my eyes. I might have turned my back for a while, but I never forgot. You were still you."

"But that clearly wasn't enough or you wouldn't have left," he says plainly, matter-of-factly.

"Leaving wasn't about you. It was about _me_, that job. I thought it was what I wanted. And I thought I couldn't have it all. I'd spent all that time trying to make myself better for you. I didn't want to let you down by doing everything badly."

"So you walked away? That makes no sense to me. You don't walk away if you really love someone, Kate. You do whatever it takes to make it work."

"I know," Kate sighs, the words coming out with a slight whine of desperation that she hates to hear in her own voice. "I should have talked to you about everything, asked for your help. We should have faced it together. You don't have to tell me how screwed up I got things. I spent nights and weekends alone in that apartment in DC trying to figure out a way to say sorry, to come back to you. I lost years of my life to my mother's case, Castle…"

"I know. I was there for some of it."

"I know you were. But this was way worse. What I did to you was unforgiveable. You've always been there for me, more than anyone else in my life. You supported me, you made me want to be better and you kept showing up even when I pushed you away."

"I don't need gratitude, Kate."

"I'm not offering you my thanks," she whispers, hoarsely, shaking her head slowly, tears pooling in her eyes making the lamplight and everything in the room swim. "I—I'm offering you myself, Castle…_me_. My heart," she tells him, placing one of her own hands over her heart to emphasise her point. "I want a chance to be for you what you've always been for me - a support, my best friend, the one person you can count on to always be on your side no matter what. Everyone should be lucky enough to have someone like that in their life."

"I thought that was what we were for each other," says Castle, flatly.

"Until I left?"

Castle nods.

"And now?"

"Now…I'm choosing to believe we could be again," he replies, with a renewed strength in his blue eyes.

"Choosing?"

"I'm drowning out the small, nagging voice inside my head that's telling me…"

He pauses, lets his hand drop to her waist, thumb strumming her ribcage.

"What? Not to trust me? That I'll only let you down again?" Kate suggests.

"I know you didn't do it on purpose. But I can't forget that it happened. Twice I've failed at relationships I went all in on, Kate. I'm not doing that again to either of us. I have to be sure."

"I asked you to wait for me once. And you did. So this is me telling you that I will be here, waiting, for as long as it takes, Castle. As long as it takes for you to be sure."

He nods silently, doesn't say anymore.

* * *

"Bath'll be getting cold. You coming?" asks Kate, planting a soft kiss to his cheek and patting his chest before turning away to limp towards the en suite by herself.

They've made good progress. She got some answers, and even the ones she doesn't like hearing are informative, put them back on the map. She can give him space now, time to come to her, while she keeps working on her own weak spots, keeps being open, demonstrating to him that she's here and she's not afraid anymore.

"I…I think I'll go downstairs for a bit. Maybe take a walk. You need a hand getting in?" he asks, not coming any closer.

"If you could just hang around in case I slip that'd be good."

"Sure. I'll be right here," he says, sitting back down on the bed. "Yell if you need anything."

They're being grown-up about this for once. They're talking, communicating, sharing and trying to figure a way back or even forwards, where they can build on the pain, the learning and growth that inevitably came from everything they've just been through to create something better, more solid. No one is running or lying or hiding, even when it's hard and messy and the words aren't the ones you'd like to hear or say. Kate is proud of what they're becoming even if the pace is slower than she'd like.

She pauses by the bathroom door, steam swirling out to meet her.

"Castle?"

"Hmm?" he asks, head snapping up from a quiet examination of his clasped hands to look at her.

"I promise I will always be there for you no matter what."

He nods, several short, affirming jerks of his head in quick succession to show that he acknowledges her heartfelt pledge.

"I'd like that."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


End file.
